Avengers: Wreckage
by shanejayell
Summary: In the aftermath of the disbanding of the Avengers, Carol Danvers must build a new life from the wreckage…..
1. Chapter 1

Avengers: Wreckage

It was the worst day in Avengers history...

The Scarlet Witch, a longtime member of the Avengers, suffered a total nervous breakdown after losing control of her mutant reality-altering powers and falling prey to the pain and grief of her past. In the chaos around the breakdown beloved Avengers Hawkeye, Ant-Man and Vision all lost their lives.

Many of the other Avengers were hurt, both emotionally and physically as the Scarlet Witch's powers lashed out at their greatest weaknesses. Three months later the team reunited at Avengers Mansion, to say their farewells and to mourn together. Without the funding or drive to keep going, the rest of the team quietly disbanded.

That was a month ago.

Carol Danvers gave a professional smile as she shook the hand of the editor of the LA Herald even as she tried her best to hide her dismay. 'I can't believe I'm reduced to doing this,' the blonde thought, her business suit crisp and neat even in the wilting heat.

"You're freelance work is pretty scanty," Ron Black said to her wearily, his thinning brown hair pushed back from his face, his rumpled clothes matching the hideously messy desk, "a few articles the last few months, with the bulk of your work before that."

'That's because most of my time was occupied being an Avenger,' Carol thought, 'not to mention adventuring out in space.' Choosing her words carefully she offered, "I was trying another job for a while, but newspapers get into your blood."

"Huh," he sounded entirely unimpressed, rummaging through the layers of papers on his desk. "So you'll be covering crime and homicide," Ron sighed as he handed over the assignment sheets, "along with the superhero beat."

"Guess I'm hired," she smiled slightly.

"We're short on staff," Ron said to her honestly, "so try to produce as much content as you can." He paused, "Lots of supercrooks running around after Iron Man and Stark started concentrating back east, should keep you busy."

"Thanks," Carol said, turning away to make her way over to the desk that she had been assigned and getting herself set up. The computer was a few years old, but still good enough for word processing, and the digital camera she had brought in looked like it was going to be compatible. Oddly there even was an older police band radio that someone had scrounged up for the crime beat reporter.

"So you're the new sacrificial lamb?" the warmly amused woman's voice asked. Carol looked up to see a slightly older redhead standing by her desk, her smile gentle as she said, "Welcome to the Herald, I'm Monica Stewart."

"Nice to meet you, Monica," Carol offered her hand and they shook. "Sacrificial lamb?" she asked her curiously.

Monica looked impish, "May have been a poor choice of words, but we haven't had a crime reporter last more than a week or two."

"Sounds fun," Carol was about to say more when the radio squawked, officers reporting a super powered being incident going on downtown. "Sorry," she smiled apologetically to the other woman, "gotta go."

"Good luck," Monica waved as Carol rushed out of the newsroom.

'This is going to take some getting used to,' Carol thought as she raced to the stairs. Reaching the basement parkade she peeled out in her car, out onto streets that she had begun to memorize before even taking on the job.

Racing down the sun drenched city streets Carol mused at how different this place was compared to New York City, and how much she had missed this place. She had been based out on the Cape after her years of intelligence work for the CIA and had lived a good life out here before things got all bad and crazy.

The distant sound of breaking glass, sirens and occasional cries of alarm showed that Carol was getting closer, and she pulled over to the side of the road before climbing out and making her way forward on foot. The buildings provided some cover as she peered to see whom was out there and felt a sudden flash of annoyance and a wee bit of fear.

The four figures tore into the shops on the drive, their similar costumes looking oddly silly in the summer sun. The Wrecking Crew weren't major players, really, in all honesty they were just a group of powerful thugs. The Wrecker, Thunderball, Bulldozer and Piledriver had all been gifted with Asgardian level strength and durability by one of Thor's old foes, and normally the Avengers would be able to make short work of them.

'Problem is,' Carol thought to herself grimly as she used the compact digital camera to get shots of them tearing into a upscale jewelers to get as much loot as possible, 'I'm all alone, and these guys can more than match me strength wise in a group.'

They weren't very elegant, but the Wrecking Crew were pretty efficient at what they were doing. Thunderball swung his full sized wrecking ball to smash up the storefronts, Wrecker used his crowbar to tear open any remaining obstacles then Piledriver and Bulldozer cleared the places out. The police, quite understandably, were hanging back and it didn't look like that any of the local superheroes were available to stop them.

'Which leaves me,' Carol thought as she put her digital camera up on a exposed corner, setting it to photograph every few seconds. Hopefully, she'd get a couple of good action shots that way. Carol closed her eyes, concentrating and called up the stellar energies deep within her body. In a flash of light her stylish business wear was gone, replaced by a uniform in pure black. A simple leotard, gloves, boots, red sash and a stylized gold lightning bolt down her front, and she was Warbird.

"Looks like we got this place cleared," the Wrecker said, the purple and green clad masked crook almost gloating, "we just have to clear out two or three more and we can go!"

"And let's do this quickly," Thunderball added, the African-American former scientist added, "we've been lucky so far that no superheroes have shown up."

"I'd say that's my cue," Warbird said as she descended from where she had flown up and around to, "I'd advise giving up now, gentlemen."

"It's Ms. Marvel!" Bulldozer yelled, his metal headpiece gleaming.

"Warbird," she smiled a little wryly, a bit annoyed that she wasn't better known as she added, "I haven't called myself Marvel in years."

"Whatever," Piledriver barked as the red and whiter villain charged, "get her!"

Warbird didn't wait until they attacked, she was already soaring towards them. A burst of energy blasted Bulldozer back as she ducked to dodge Wrecker's bar, then leapt up to get over Piledriver's charge. 'Now where is...?' Warbird thought.

WHAM!

Thunderball struck much faster than Warbird could have expected, the heavy metal ball hammering her backwards and sending her flying into the second floor of an office building. The glass window and internal walls barely slowed her down, surprisingly it was hitting something else inside the building that stopped her cold. Snatched right out of the air by human hands Warbird and the other figure skidded a moment, then came to a stop in a heap by a inner wall.

"Are you all right?" the black haired woman asked, cradling her with a surprising degree of gentleness. Long black hair fell over her shoulders, brown eyes looking down in honest concern. She looked just like a business woman, her blue woman's suit loosely fitting her, her large bag hanging at her side, now dusty from the damage all around them.

"I think so," Warbird answered dazedly, swaying slightly as they young woman helped her stand up. The board room looked like it was set up for a presentation, architectural diagrams set up and the remaining businessmen were running for their lives. "Wait a minute!" her eyes widened as Warbird realized what this woman had done.

This unassuming woman that was helping her retrace her steps through the broken building had stopped her flight through the building, plucking Warbird right out of the air easily. "What's wrong?" she asked mildly.

"How did...?" Warbird asked. She shook her head, "Who ARE you?"

"Jackie Lukas," she answered with a faint smile as the sounds of the Wrecking crew grew louder, "the rest is a bit harder to explain." Her eyes narrowed in anger as she said, "Is that who disrupted my meeting? I nearly sold them on my designs..."

The Wrecking Crew looked up, the four men clearly surprised to see the two women. "Yes, that would be them," Warbird admitted.

"Good," Jackie reached into her bag, drawing out an unearthly looking weapon. The mace was battered, looking like it had been through the wars but somehow it still radiated pure power. Slamming it hilt first into the ground Jackie was bathed in lightning and stood transformed.

"Oh shit," the Wrecker managed weakly.

Jackie didn't look all that different, Warbird had to admit. Her face and hair were the same, though she looked subtly taller. But her earthly clothes had been reshaped into Asgardian style armor, a blue mail shirt, red cape and black pants ending in simple golden boots. The woman looked like a figure from stories, a legend brought to life,

"When I'm like this," she smiled as she hefted the mace confidently and said, "you can call me Thunderstrike."

Warbird had seen enough of Thor to recognize the costume style and worse, she recognized the name from the Avengers' files. The first Thunderstrike had been a Avenger, fighting to temporarily replace Thor only to be slain in battle, corrupted by dark magic until he became an enemy to them all. 'Is she cursed like the first Thunderstrike was?' she worried.

"Just because she looks like Thor," Thunderball yelled, "it doesn't mean we can't take them!" He pointed dramatically at Warbird and Thunderstrike, "Let's go!"

Bracing herself Warbird stopped Bulldozer's charge, grabbing the metal helmet and heaving upward even as he called out I surprise. Swinging him down she shattered the concrete sidewalk, hammering the bulky man down into the earth until he was stunned.

"Now where is..." Warbird looked around only to stop, smiling in surprise. 'No, I don't think Thunderstrike is going to need any help,' she mused.

With a swing of her mace Thunderstrike met the powerful swing of Thunderball's wrecking ball and stopped it cold with a ringing of metal on metal. Even as the man reeled back in surprise Thunderstrike followed up with a powerful blow to the head, sending him crashing to the ground. "All right," she turned to the two conscious members of the Wrecking Crew, "who's next?"

The Wrecker and Piledriver looked at each other, then bolted forward to grab their fallen comrades. Wrecker raised his wrecking bar above his head and called out, "Dread lord, return us to your keep!" Before either Warbird or Thunderstrike could react the Wrecking Crew were engulfed by a burst of power, disappearing seconds later.

"I've never heard of them doing that before," Warbird growled out, smoothly taking off to hover above the battlefield, looking around them crossly. Sadly there was no sign of the men ever having been there.

"Think they're coming back?" a frowning Thunderstrike asked, her long black hair blowing in the breeze.

Warbird settled to the pavement as she smiled, "I think they've decided to exercise the better part of valor." She looked at her thoughtfully, "Nice work."

"I'd certainly agree," the cold, almost synthesized voice added. Both Warbird and Thunderstrike jerked in surprise to see the armored figure de-cloaking, hovering above them on boot thrusters. The metal was silver and dull gray, bulky looking with weapons mounted on the top of the gauntlets and heavier cannons on the shoulders.

"War Machine," Warbird breathed out, her eyes narrowing as she wondered if this was a friend or foe. The distinctive black and silver Iron Man armor had been worn by both a hero and a criminal, and at least once it had been used to beat her badly.

"Not a friend?" Thunderstrike followed her lead automatically, hefting her mace as she prepared to back Warbird up if needed.

Warbird felt oddly gratified that Thunderstike seemed to trust her so quickly. "Not sure yet," she answered honestly.

The War Machine settled down beside them, the cannons and other arms not locked on, thankfully. "I come in peace," the voice continued coldly, then surprisingly a gauntleted hand flipped up the faceplate. The redheaded woman smiled, her voice unprocessed through electronics sounding much warmer. "My name is Jennifer Swensen," she said cheerfully, "I'd like to offer you a job."

To be continued...

Notes: This series is a rethinking of my previous series Force Works, with some of the cast being carried over. While I liked writing Force Works I did get the feeling that I was writing it mostly for myself, mostly due to modest reader feedback. I was sort of losing interest when the comics series began a new story called Avengers Disassembled, and that opened up several new ideas. I intend this to be a shorter series, at most six parts and possibly less, but we'll just have to see.

This section is nearly word for word the introduction Brian Michael Bendis wrote for the new Avengers series, with a few additional details added by me. BMB's new series is one of the best Avengers books I've read in years, and I strongly recommend it.


	2. Chapter 2

Avengers: Wreckage Two

Late in the evening the paper had been printed, copies of the evening edition left on each of the reporter's desks. "Oh my god," Monica Stewart breathed out, her eyes wide, "how close did you get?" The older redhead was looking at the front page of the Herald, where Carol Danvers' first story and photos were on the front page: Former Avengers wreck Wrecking Crew!

Carol was looking at her cover feature with wry amusement as she said, "Close enough." She shook her head, "Warbird was the only Avenger there, so why did they put that headline on it?"

"Because it sells papers," Monica laughed. She tapped a photo of a member of the Wrecking Crew being hammered and asked, "Does anyone know who the other hero was?"

"Not for sure," Carol answered, "I checked with a few super-hero fan websites and I think the mace belonged to a hero called Thunderstrike." Silently she added, 'Of course Warbird knows who she is, but reporter Carol Danvers couldn't realistically have that information.'

"Thunderstrike?" Monica blinked then chuckled. "That must have been a pretty obscure Avenger," she remarked.

"Yeah," Carol agreed, "my source says he was killed in action about a year ago."

"Ouch," Monica winced.

"Yeah," Carol agreed, tiredly picking up her purse from the desk. In addition to her stopping the Wrecking Crew there had been a visit to the courthouse and the police station as well as rushing down to several crime scenes. All in all it had been a busy first day, and a part of Carol just wanted to go home and collapse.

Monica smiled as they walked out of the building together, "I was wondering if you needed some help in getting around town?" With an impish smile she added, "I know most of the best bars and pick up joints in town."

"Sorry," Carol chuckled, "but I think I'll be busy settling in, first." She looked at the other woman and smiled gently, "But thanks."

Monica laughed, "You don't know what you're missing." With that they separated, the older woman heading for her car even as Carol headed for hers.

'Besides, I think I may have another appointment,' Carol thought as she sat in the front seat of her little sports car and fished out the business card that War Machine had given her. A phone number and address were printed there, both for a company called Stane Enterprises.

Carol recognized the name, of course, though it had taken a bit of digging to confirm what she had heard. Obadiah Stane had been a problem for Iron Man during the time she had been off Earth, using underhanded tactics to try to beat him. Stane Enterprises even succeeded in buying out Stark's company, but Tony Stark recovered and challenged him once again. In a final confrontation in armored suits Tony beat Stane, then the other man committed suicide. Eventually Tony bought back all the assets that had formally belonged to him, leaving Stane a distant memory.

'So what,' Carol thought as she pulled out into the flow of traffic, 'is a company named Stane doing trying to recruit superhumans?' After a bit of debate she had decided to at least hear what the job was that War Machine had mentioned, then she would decide what to do.

A half hour later found Warbird flying down to where the complex was in a valley not far from LA, a mix of industrial and business facilities.. Standing by the front gate was Jackie Lucas, the black haired woman's long coat gently blowing in the breeze.

"I was sort of hoping you'd come," Jackie smiled at her shyly, "I would have felt nervous about going in here on my own."

"Shouldn't you be...?" Warbird mimed striking a mace on the ground.

Jackie looked amused, "I seem to have my powers if I'm transformed or not."

"Ah," Warbird nodded. The black costumed heroine lead the way towards the front gate where a young man was looked at the two of them in surprise. She smiled slightly as she addressed him, "I think we're expected?"

He smiled back, "Yes ma'am, you are." The gate swung open on the pressing of a switch and they walked in, the soft clang of them closing echoing behind them.

"Main building?" Jackie guessed as they walked along the lane towards the office structure, a few cars still parked there despite it being evening.

"Worth a try," Warbird agreed.

Walking up to the front doors they swung open automatically, revealing a nicely decorated reception area where a younger redheaded woman waited. Jennifer Swensen smiled as they came in, the simple business suit she wore hugging her body, "Welcome to Stane Enterprises, ladies."

"Nice to be here," Jackie said cautiously.

Warbird carefully studied her surroundings even as she commented, "I'm surprised you're not dressed in your armor."

"It's not my armor, technically," Jennifer said calmly, "but I think the boss would be the best person to explain all that." She gestured towards a side door as she said to them, "Would you care to follow me?"

"You mentioned a job," Jackie said as they went down the hallway together towards an elevator, "I guess your boss will explain that, too?"

Jennifer pressed the switch to summon the elevator, then she answered, "I'm afraid so."

Warbird debated using her powers to scan their surroundings, but she figured that might be a bit much. 'Especially since I have no idea if they could detect me trying,' she mused, 'best to just stay on guard, instead.'

The elevator rose up smoothly, finally coming to a stop at the penthouse level ten floors off of the ground. The first room on that floor was a office, finely decorated with oak desk, leather chairs and a few tastefully placed potted plants.

Already getting up from behind the desk was a woman who's hair was nearly white, her blue eyes full of seemingly honest pleasure. "Welcome to Stane Enterprises," she smiled at them and continued, "I'm Olivia Stane." Her cheeks dimpled as she smiled, "I already know who you are, Warbird, and I think this is Thunderstrike?"

"Jackie Lucas," she nodded with a faint frown, "but yes."

"Stane," Warbird murmured, "as in related to Obadiah Stane?"

"My late and unlamented uncle," Olivia coolly confirmed, "and before you get too paranoid I'm well aware he was swine and have no intention of following in his footsteps."

"You might want to lead into that a bit, first," Jennifer said gently into the silence that had followed Olivia's fierce declaration of intent.

"I'm sorry," Olivia softened her tone a bit, "I just get that reaction a lot."

Jackie surprised them by meeting Olivia's eyes and smiling, "I can understand that, considering my own background."

"Huh?" Warbird blinked in confusion but Jackie didn't explain further.

Olivia took a steadying breath, standing right behind one of the leather chairs. Gripping the back nervously she said, "I've asked you all to come here for a simple reason, one that I hope you'll consider seriously." Jennifer gave her an encouraging smile and Olivia relaxed a bit, "I want to form a west coast based superteam."

This time Jackie was the one to look surprised, "Eh?"

"Even before the Avengers disbanded there's been a lack of organized superhumans here," Olivia smiled wryly, "with the exception of Wonderman and Ultra Girl. Force Works was the last major team here, and they were folded back into the Avengers a while back."

"And why are you doing this," Warbird asked warily, "out of the goodness of your heart?"

"No," Olivia shook her head, "I'll get significant tax breaks from the federal government along with state incentives." She flashed a grin, "Not to mention the benefits to my company in helping found and host such a team."

"And what would we get out of it?" Jackie asked, her expression thoughtful.

"In addition to the pleasure of helping your fellow man," Jennifer jumped in this time, "you'll also receive a reasonable monthly salary."

"And why are you specifically doing this?" Warbird looked at Olivia.

"My uncle left me a great deal of wealth, blood money in my opinion," Olivia said frankly, "I can't imagine anything that would make him spin in his grave more than spending as much of it as I can in helping others."

To be continued...


	3. Chapter 3

Avengers: Wreckage Three

"What do you think?" Jackie Lucas asked as they left the Stane compound, the black haired woman looking over at Warbird thoughtfully.

Warbird shrugged, the slim blonde superheroine frowning to herself slightly. "I don't know," she admitted, I think Ms. Stane is talking a good game, but I wish I could be sure she meant it."

"She seemed sincere to me," Jackie said honestly, "as did her friend, Jennifer."

Warbird gave her a thoughtful look, "Maybe so. I was a bit surprised to see you here in your civilian identity, though."

Jackie smiled wryly as she gently reminded her, "I did sort of get involved in a battle in the middle of LA." She shrugged as she continued, "If someone wants to find out who Thunderstike really is, they probably can."

"Sorry," Warbird said quietly. She hesitated a moment then continued, "It occurs to me that I never even thanked you for helping me."

"You're welcome," Jackie said warmly, brown eyes twinkling.

Warbird felt a blush color her cheeks, though she couldn't quite explain why. "I have a friend who's a private eye," she changed the subject, "I'll ask her to look into Stane for me. If she's clean, I may sign on with this group she's forming, if only to keep an eye on her."

"My own motives aren't nearly so noble," Jackie admitted, "I need the job."

Warbird laughed, and then took a step backwards as Jackie drew her battered mace from her bag. Raising it above her head she slammed the handle to the ground and in a burst of light and sound was transformed. Thunderstrike's red cloak swirled around her, her blue chain mail shirt hugging her body, the Asgardian garb giving her a slightly more impressive appearance.

Spinning her mace Thunderstrike said, "You might want to look into my background too, before you decide if we're going to be allies." Tossing the mace she grabbed at the attached chain grip and soared off, much like Thor once had.

'What did she mean by that?' Warbird blinked, smoothly rising into the sky as she headed towards LA. A half an hour later Carol Danvers arrived in her new apartment, boxes of stuff still scattered around, waiting to be unpacked. Ignoring them she headed to the phone and dialed, hoping her friend would still be up.

"Whatever it is had better be good," the annoyed voice said.

"Jess," Carol grinned, "good to hear from you, too."

"Do you know what time it is here in New York?" Jessica Jones asked crossly.

Carol's eyes widened, quickly realizing it was even later back east. "Sorry," she said a bit sheepishly, "I forgot."

"One of these days...," Jessica trailed off with a tired sigh. A bit more gently she asked, "So what's up, buddy?"

"Actually I have a job I need you to do," Carol confessed. "Background checks on Olivia Stane," she hesitated and added, "and Jackie Lucas." She spelled the names out then added, "Whatever you can get in a day or so, send to my email address."

"I'll get some internet searches going and hit up some of my contacts," Jess agreed, "but I can't promise too much in a short time."

"Whatever you can get would help," Carol said thoughtfully, "I think that is there's something odd, it'll come up pretty fast."

"Got it," Jess nodded. "So how are you doing?" she asked gently.

"I'm coping," Carol said, "losing my old job and everything that happened... it's been hard." She brightened, "And how's pregnancy treating you?"

"Luke's discovering the wonders of living with someone with morning sickness," Jess said with amusement. They talked for a bit then Jess said, "Well, I've got to get to bed, I'll have some info for you as soon as possible."

"Thanks," Carol finished with a grin.

Earlier at the Stane Complex two women watched using the security systems as Warbird and Jackie talked, and then the two heroines took off in different directions. Olivia Stane switched the monitor off as the white haired woman asked, "Do you think they'll sign on?"

Jennifer Swensen leaned on the corner of Olivia's desk, her red hair flowing over her shoulders. "Warbird will check into us," Jen said confidently, "but once she finds out we're clean, I think she'll go for it."

"And Thunderstrike?" Olivia asked.

"She's having difficulty finding employment due to her criminal past," Jen pointed out, "she needs this job, honestly." A smile, "And she's serious about being a hero, no matter how difficult it's made her life."

"Good," Olivia got up, a soft groan coming from her throat as she stretched, her breasts pushing up against her dress top. "You'll tell me if you have any problems in the War Machine?" as asked as she and Jen walked out of the office.

Jen casually shut the lights off, and then followed up the hall. "You don't need to worry," she said gently, "I helped design the suit, and I know what it can do."

Olivia hit the switch for the elevator, waving Jen on in before following her inside. "I know all that," she admitted as she used her key to access the penthouse floor switch, "but I'm going to worry about you anyway."

They rose smoothly towards the penthouse level as Jen looked down at the smaller woman, "If you really don't want me to pilot the suit..."

"No," Olivia shook her head, "you're right in trying to keep the suit in the hands of someone we both trust." A smile, "Even if it scares me."

The doors of the elevator opened to the penthouse, a spacious set of rooms that Olivia had added shortly after buying the building. They walked in together and Jen slipped her business suit jacket off as she smiled, "Who's turn is it for dinner tonight?"

"Mine," Olivia smiled as she slipped her heels off, wiggling her toes in the luxurious carpet. "Do you have anything you'd like?" she asked.

Jennifer came up behind her and slipped her arms around Olivia, "You."

"Bad girl," Olivia laughed softly as she wiggled free. She gave Jen a fond look, "You have to eat some real food, not that engineer's junk food I see you snack on."

Jennifer chuckled as she slipped her own shoes off, "Spoil sport." She padded after Olivia as they crossed the massive living room to the kitchen, "Where did you get the habit of taking your shoes off coming home?"

Olivia smiled fondly in memory, "Japan, actually. I attended school there for most of my teens, I thought because my Father wanted me out of the way."

"You thought?" Jen raised an eyebrow, "What was the real reason?"

Olivia opened the fridge to get out several foil wrapped dishes as she said, "By reading his diaries I found out he was getting involved with the underworld at the time, he shipped me off so I couldn't be used against him."

"Or to protect you," Jennifer played devil's advocate.

Olivia shrugged uncomfortably as she put the meatloaf she had made earlier into the oven to heat, "Either way it really was a blessing in disguise. I think my Japanese foster family was the best influence I ever had."

"Is that why you're going this?" Jen asked as she uncovered the noodles and put them in the microwave for two minutes.

"I don't know if I completely believe in the Japanese traditions of honor," Olivia mused, "but yes, I'm trying to make up for the sins of my father." A flash of her smile, "Not to mention the various cynical reasons I have to do this."

"You may sell your accountants on that, but it doesn't fool me," Jennifer laughed as they leaned against various counters, waiting for dinner to heat.

"Pacifying the accountants and shareholders is a necessary evil," Olivia chuckled, "I don't think they'd be happy knowing I want to do good for it's own sake."

Jennifer reached out to take Olivia's hand, gently squeezing it in hers. "I think that's part of why I love you so," she said.

"You just want to get out of eating diner, m'love," Olivia gave a delighted laugh.

"No," Jennifer's voice was a purr, "I'm just looking forward to what happens after dinner."

Olivia blushed fiercely.

To be continued...


	4. Chapter 4

Avengers: Wreckage Four

Carol Danvers typed away at her desk, smiling faintly as her fingers flew across the computer keyboard. She was working on putting the last few touches on her latest article, her third one of the day. With the small staff at the Herald there was a lot of space in the paper to be filled by their reporters, and the blonde was discovering she sort of enjoyed it.

"Yo, Danvers!" Ron Black yelled from his office.

Saving her work Carol got up, leaving the rows of desks that were occupied by busy reporters and headed over to the editors office. "Yes sir?" she asked him meekly, well aware that she was still on probation here.

"Don't look so worried," Ron looked up at her mildly, "you've been doing good work." The editor rummaged around the messy desk until the equally messy man finally found a print out that he gave her, "What do you know about this?"

"Huh," Carol frowned as she quickly read the news release. Apparently Olivia Stane wasn't wasting any time, loosely describing her new planned superteam and sketching out what she hoped to do with them. No members were actually named, but she did say that several 'prominent' superheroes were involved. "Might not be anything much," she said to him, "I notice she hasn't got anyone named as being on board yet."

"Pretty much what I thought," Ron agreed as he ran a hand through his thinning hair, "but keep an eye on it, will ya?"

"Oh, I will," Carol agreed.

Returning to her desk Carol fought back a flash of irritation at the news. Part of her was very tempted to call up Olivia Stane and tell her off for jumping the gun, especially considering that she and Thunderstrike hadn't even agreed to join yet, but she restrained herself. 'It could be she had other superhumans on tap, too,' she thought.

A soft chime from her computer signaled an email had come in, and opening up the program Carol noted it was from her friend Jessica Jones. "I finished up the background checks," Jessica wrote, "Stane checks out clean as a whistle, though I still need to do some digging on her life in Japan. Jackie Lucas is a different story, however."

'Stane was in Japan for awhile?' Carol blinked in surprise, then frowned as she remembered something that Jackie had said to her. 'She did tell me to look into her own background,' Carol recalled the other hero's parting words.

"Once upon a time Jackie was a supervillain called Bloodaxe," Jessica revealed, "who fought Thunderstrike. Apparently she was under the control of an enchanted weapon, one that later enslaved T-strike himself. She had some run ins with the law when she was younger, but since her supervillain period she's been clean as a whistle."

After composing a fast 'thank you' email to Jessica Carol went back to work, finishing off the article on a group of minor crooks who called themselves the Raiders. Wearing matching costumes and using advanced weapons they had hit banks in different parts of the city, quickly cleaning out the vaults of valuables before the police could arrive.

'I wonder if Warbird should look into this?' Carol wondered before a presence by her desk made her look up.

"Did Ron scold you?" Monica Stewart asked, the older redhead smiling down at Carol impishly. She looked good, as usual, wearing casual clothes that helped bring out her fine figure.

"No, he just gave me a heads up on a new story," Carol answered pleasantly. There was something almost earthy about the other woman, a nearly hedonistic quality that drew Carol in. 'Probably because I'm nearly the opposite of that these days,' she noted.

"Good," Monica grinned. She dropped her voice a bit, "A few of the guys are a bit cross with you, especially over you getting a front page story so soon."

Carol smiled wryly, knowing exactly what she meant. At a paper like this there was a certain pecking order, and her arrival had probably shaken that up a little. 'Then add in my getting a scoop so fast and you have a recipe for trouble.' she thought. "They'll just have to manage:" she said mildly, "or maybe they'd like to switch jobs with me?"

That got a snort of laughter from Monica, "Take over crime? Not likely." She looked at Carol impishly, "So, do you want to join a few of us for drinks?"

Carol hesitated, "Would anyone be offended if I don't drink any booze?"

"Ah," Monica smiled slightly, "No, Elisa down in accounting doesn't drink, either. She'll be glad to have the company."

"All right then," Carol finished up her work, saving the document then mailing it over to editorial. Grabbing her coat from the back of her chair she followed Monica out of the bullpen, "So, what should I expect?"

"All women pretty much," Monica said as they took the old elevator down, "most of us have enough of our boyfriends during the week. There's on average five or six of us, depending on who's available, and they're all pretty nice."

"Other reporters?" Carol asked curiously.

"Just you and I," Monica flashed a grin. "There's Elisa and Heather from accounting, Bette from shipping, Catty from records and Lynn from maintenance," she said, "as well as any guests they may haul along."

"I guess that's why the number varies?" Carol guessed.

"Yup." They exited into the parking garage as Monica continued, "We usually meet over at a dive called the Oasis, do you want to follow me or ride with me there?"

Carol thought of the various ways this night could go bad and smiled, "I think I'll follow you there, thanks."

The amused look in Monica's eyes clearly showed she guessed what Carol was thinking but she just smiled and teased, "Chicken." She lead the way out of the garage in a older Toyota, Carol meekly following her in her sport's car.

LA at night was as varied as any city in the world, with the best and worst side by side and cheek to cheek. Carol again found herself relaxing as they drove, moving across town until they arrived at a club off the main drag, decorated in a faux island theme. Despite the cheesy exterior with neon palm trees the Oasis was comfortable inside, with subdued lighting and a nice atmosphere.

"Hey Monica," a tall brunette waved to them from a corner table, a smile of welcome on her pretty face.

"That's Bette," Monica chuckled softly as she lead Carol over to them, cheerfully adding, "she's not nearly as brash as she looks."

The corner table had a interesting mix of people, all with slightly different looks. Bette sat at one end, then a elegant black haired woman in a business suit. Beside her in sweats was a mousy brown haired girl, and beside her was a dynamite blonde. Finally a tough looking lady with a sparkling red/gold tint in her hair sat at the other end.

"About time you got here," the elegant woman drank from her glass of gingerale as if it was filled with the finest wine.

"Elisa, you are so anal," Monica shook her head. She smiled over at Carol, "You can imagine why she got into accounting." She addressed the table, "Everyone, I'd like you to meet the Herald's newest crime reporter, Carol Danvers."

Carol had to fight back a smile.

"I'm Heather," the mousy young woman smiled, "don't mind Elisa, she always gets grouchy when she has to add a new employee to the rolls."

The dynamite blonde grinned, "I'm Catty, welcome aboard." She patted a empty chair at the table, "Grab a seat."

"I thought you'd never ask," Monica said as she and Carol sat. "Anybody order yet?" she asked them curiously.

"Lynn," the woman with reddish gold hair smiled at Carol then Lynn addressed Monica, "No, we were just waiting for you to arrive."

"Since you're new," Monica looked at Carol, "any preferences?"

"What's good here?" Carol addressed the table. She grinned as charmingly as she could and added, "I bow to your superior wisdom."

Heather chuckled at that, reaching over to pat Carol's hand as she purred, "Don't worry, we'll take very good care of you."

"Especially Heather," Monica laughed, "are you still looking for a girlfriend?"

"Monica," Lynn scolded, "you shouldn't spring something like that on a new comer like that."

Carol looked at Heather in surprise, "You're...?"

"Yes," Heather blushed then tossed a glare at Monica, "I'm sorry Miss Blunt there decided to blurt that out."

Carol hastened to reassure her, "It's all right, really."

"Oh really?" Elisa gave her a thoughtful look.

Carol felt everyone's eyes on her and blushed. "As cliched as it sounds," Carol said with as much dignity as she could muster, "some of my best friends are lesbians."

"Don't worry everyone," Catty said, the dynamite looking blonde tossing Carol a sympathetic glance, "we can always grill her about her romantic background later. For now, let's have dinner!"

To be continued...


	5. Chapter 5

Avengers: Wreckage Five

The hotel room was seedy, almost as run down as the rest of the neighborhood that it was in, and the people around fit in easily. On the corners scantily clad women waited, bored looking, while shifty looking me called out to passerby offering various illegal wares. It was the sort of neighborhood you might be in when you first arrived in town broke, or the sort of place that you could end up in after you lost it all.

"Thank you," Jackie Lukas said flatly into her phone from where the black haired woman sat on the rumpled bed, "I can certainly understand your position. If another position comes up in your firm could you contact me? I'd greatly appreciate it."

Jackie turned off the phone, fighting the urge to fling it across the room. She had been interviewing for architectural firms all across LA, but her criminal record and prison time seemed to make her unemployable. They were terribly polite about it and they never said that was the reason, but she could read between the lines.

ring!

"Yes?" Jackie answered her phone grimly, wondering if another firm was calling to tell her that they weren't hiring her, too.

"Hi Jackie," Warbird's familiar voice answered, "is this a bad time? You sound stressed."

Jackie took a breath, glad that Warbird couldn't see the sort of dump she was staying in. "It's good to hear from you," she answered in more normal tones, "how are you?"

Warbird chuckled, "Not bad, all things considered. I had my friend do those background checks we talk about..."

Jackie felt a burst of dismay. She had asked Warbird to look into her own background as well as that of Olivia Stane, not wanting the other heroine to be blindsided by her criminal background. "What did you find out?" she kept her voice steady.

"So far Olivia Stane checks out squeaky clean," Warbird answered, "and I know about you and the Bloodaxe thing, too." Her voice was nearly gentle as she said, "I contacted a few Avengers who were around at the time, all of them agree you were possessed. Why did you decide to plead guilty to reduced charges?"

Jackie felt a odd mix of emotions, both shame, guilt and relief warring within her. "I guess I always thought I could have done more to stop the weapon," she admitted, "and I felt guilty over the harm I did, so..."

"I know how that feels," Warbird was sympathetic, "I've screwed up myself more than once."

Jackie looked around her dump of a suite, her thoughts turning to her current situation. "I think I'm going to take Stane's offer," she said quietly, "how about you?"

"I haven't made up my mind," Warbird admitted, "but I think I'll give it a try for awhile. If I find out something shifty, I can always bail."

"Good," Jackie felt herself smile faintly, "it'll be nice to have someone I feel I can trust involved in this."

"Then we'll meet at the Stane complex and tell Olivia," Warbird said, "when do you want to go over there?"

Jackie got up, feeling a sudden surge of energy. "You busy now?" she asked curiously.

Warbird chuckled, "I'm going to be keeping my day job, but I think I can get away with slipping out for awhile. See you there in half an hour?"

"Got it," Jackie agreed, hanging up.

Locking her door Jackie headed up to the roof, carefully stepping over a drunk sleeping in the hallway. 'The sooner I get out of here, the better,' she thought grimly as she opened a door to the rooftop. The crunch of crumbling roofing tiles beneath her feet was the only sound as she drew her mace from the bag she always carried, then with a deep breath she slammed the handle down.

THOOM!

In a burst of lightning and a roar of thunder she transformed, taking on a distinctly Asgardian aspect. Blue chainmail hugged her body, black pants tucked into golden boots while a red cloak swirled around her. She spun her mace with the ease of long practice and tossed, gripping the chain and being yanked into the air.

The blue sky was obscured by smog, but up there it still felt marvelous cutting through the air. The magic of the Thunderstrike mace carried her out over the city then to silicon valley, the home of much of the best in electronic design and research. With barely a whisper of wind she shifted course to descend to a familiar set of buildings, a mix of manufacturing, research and office structures.

Warbird stood by the front gate, the heroine dressed in simple black and gold, a white stylized lightning bolt down her chest. Her blonde hair glowed as she smiled, the crinkling at the corner of her eyes visible even under her simple mask. Seeing her Jackie felt her heart beat speed up a bit, a sensation she still couldn't quite explain.

"You made good time," Warbird smiled, her teeth flashing white.

"Remind me not to race you," Thunderstrike answered as she set down beside her, the two walking towards the front gate.

"I was nearby anyway, because of my other job," Warbird answered dryly. They were recognized by the guard but still underwent a security scan before being let by.

"Wonder where they got the scan data?" Thunderstrike murmured.

"Probably the War Machine," Warbird answered quietly, "she did observe us in action against the Wrecking Crew, after all."

"Ah," Thunderstrike nodded as they headed to the main offices.

"Welcome," a pretty brown haired woman nodded as she greeted them at the door, "my name is Constance Leeds, but you can just call me Connie. I'll take you up to see Ms. Stark."

"Have you been working for Stane long?" Warbird asked casually, but her eyes were intent.

"Nearly a year," Connie said, cheerfully leading them across the lobby, "one of my areas of responsibility is personnel, which is why I went to greet you."

"Ms. Stane is that confident we're coming here to join her team?" Thunderstrike asked wryly as they took the elevator up.

"More hopeful, I think," Connie answered. She dropped her voice, "She really reamed out the publicity department about issuing that press release too early."

"Press release?" Thunderstrike echoed, feeling mildly stupid.

Surprisingly Warbird answered, "Stane Enterprises sent out a notice to the papers announcing the formation of a team, but no real details yet."

Connie blinked, looking at Warbird as she asked, "Do you have friends in the media?"

"Something like that," Warbird smiled faintly.

They headed out of the elevator and up a short hallway, leading into the main office. Olivia Stane was standing by her desk, smiling slightly while nearby Jennifer Swensen looked out the window, the redhead's foot tapping nervously.

"Have you had time to consider my offer?" Olivia asked, pushing a strand of white-blonde hair back from her face.

"I'm in," Thunderstrike nodded, her hand tightening a bit nervously on her mace. This was a big step on multiple levels, and she prayed she was ready for it.

"Me, too," Warbird nodded, "if only to keep T-strike here company."

"Then welcome aboard," Jennifer grinned, moving forward to shake both their hands with a surprising degree of enthusiasm, "as we'll be working together, call me Jen."

"I'm glad you've decided to join us," Olivia agreed. She gave Connie a grin, "We'll get the paper work out of the way, then start talking organization."

Connie looked hesitantly at the two of them, "How would you like to be paid? If it's cheque or direct deposit I'll need a name or account number..."

Thunderstrike raised her mace and gently struck the floor, transforming once again into Jackie Lukas. "I'm pretty sure Ms. Stane has my name already," Jackie felt a bit ashamed at needing the pay, "and I wouldn't object to being listed as a company employee."

"We'll put you down as a special consultant," Connie pulled out a hand held computer and began typing away as she added, "you'll get a signing bonus along with standard wages."

"I don't need special treatment," Jackie started.

"It's not special," Olivia said firmly, "I try to keep my people happy, and the signing bonus fits with your architectural qualifications, too."

'Wonder if they really need an architect?' Jackie thought, but wisely decided not to argue. She could put the bonus to working getting out of her dive of a suite.

"Miss Warbird?" Connie looked at her seriously.

Warbird chuckled, "Half a second." With that she flared golden a moment, her costume replaced by street clothes, a nice if off the rack business suit. "Carol Danvers," she introduced herself with a smile.

"Nice to meet you," Jackie said, faintly surprised to see she looked as good in regular clothes as she did in costume. 'Where did that thought come from?' Jackie thought, surprised.

"Thanks," Carol's smile widened.

To be continued...


	6. Chapter 6

Avengers: Wreckage Six

Jennifer Swensen sighed softly in relief as Connie lead the two women out, the perky young lady already chattering away to them about their building passes and cutting them their signing bonus checks. Once they were gone the redhead turned to Olivia Stane and admitted, "I was scared they were going to turn us down."

Olivia raised a nearly invisible eyebrow as she walked over to where Jen stood by one of the office windows, the complex spreading out below them. The white-blonde haired woman smiled up at her, "Actually I was confident they'd agree."

"You're kidding," Jen looked at her lover in surprise.

"I did study their personality profiles and the data that our various investigators gathered," Olivia gently reminded her. "Jackie Lucas has dreamed of being a hero for years, as well as laboring under guilt for her actions as Bloodaxe," she took on a remote look as she explained, "and our organization fulfills both desires."

"And Carol Danvers?" Jen asked curiously.

"As a former intelligence asset with several government agencies not to mention an one trime Avenger she doesn't trust me as far as she can throw me," Olivia said promptly, "but she does want to keep a close eye on me and what we're doing. Therefore, she joined."

"Actually, as Warbird she could throw you pretty far," Jen noted.

Olivia waved that off, "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do," Jen chuckled softly. She studied Olivia for a moment, "So how are you planning to win Carol over?"

"I'm not," Olivia admitted.

Jen blinked in confusion, "Huh?"

Olivia laughed softly at the perplexed look on Jen's face, but it was a kind laugh. "If I tried that I think she'd be even more suspicious of me," she explained sweetly, "so we'll just have to let my deeds speak for me."

"Occassionally, love, I think you're too devious for your own good," Jen said wryly after a moment of silence.

Olivia was about to reply to that comment when the soft whoop of an emergency alarm came from her desk. "Oh hell," she muttered and ran over to it, Jen following close behind as she sat down in her leather chair and used the computer that was built into her desktop to open up a miniture holographic viewscreen.

"This is car 236," the sound crackled with static as location coordinates and other data scrolled by on the floating screen, "we need immediate assistance for a SPB incident, repeat, an SPB incident! All units..."

"Police band?" Jen realized almost instantly.

Olivia nodded, "I had a monitor installed shortly after we started this project and SPB is the current short form for Super Powered Being." She looked up at Jennifer with eagerness in her eyes, "I think we may be needed at last."

"I'll armor up," Jen said briskly as she bolted towards a side room in the office, "call Connie and get Carol and Jackie back up here!"

"Got it," Olivia smiled as she used the internal communications system to page Connie and company, feeling amused by the rapid shift her lover could make from deferential business partner to a commanding superhero.

It took less than a minute for Carol and Jackie to make their way from personel to the penthouse even as Jen emerged garbed in the black and silver armor of the War Machine. Carol took one look at the armored figure then in a flash of golden light she shifted her clothing to her Warbird suit. "What's going on?" she demanded.

Olivia said grimly, "There's a army of trolls attacking LA."

You could have heard a pin drop in the room as everyone looked at her in shock. "You're serious?" Jackie finally said, pulling her mace from her bag.

"The local police don't realize what they're dealing with just yet," Olivia said to them grimly as she manipulated her data screen, "but the description matches reports from New York police of encounters between Thor and trolls."

Carol hesitated then looked over at Jackie and asked, "I guess the mace didn't give you any knowledge on...?"

"Sorry," Jackie shook her head as she admitted, "this thing quite literally dropped on me out of the blue."

"We'll have to look into that, maybe," Jen said crisply as she donned her helm. "We'd better hit the roof and go," she ordered.

"Lets," Carol agreed as they headed to a elevator to the side of the room.

"I'll download whatever troll data I can get to your armor," Olivia said as they raced out, "be careful, all of you."

There was a surprising tenderness in War Machine's artificially destorted voice as she answered, "Always."

The elevator doors slid shut and they swiftly rose to the roof. "Why didn't you change to Thunderstrike in the office?" Carol asked Jackie curiously.

"I didn't think Ms. Stane would appreciate a burnt hole in the carpet from the lightning discharge," Jackie said wryly as they exited to the top of the building. Smoothly she slammed the handle of her mace to the roof and in a burst of lightning she was transformed, street clothes replaced by Asgardian style armor and garb.

Almost as one the three figures took off from the roof, soaring away from the valley towards the city. Rapidly they flew towards the area where the disturbance had been reported, soon hearing alkarms and sirens going off in the distance.

"So how do we want to handle this?" Thunderstrike asked, looking over at Warbird questioningly.

Warbird looked back at her in surprise, then realized that War Machine was also looking to her for guidance. "Hey, why am I suddenly in charge?" she asked as burning buildings appeared, broken cars sitting in wrecks by the side of the road.

"You have the most experience of any of us," War Machine pointed out reasonably, "either as a superhero or in a team situation."

"Oh sure, use logic," Warbird grumbled as they heard the first gunshots and raised voices.

They came around the corner to a scene of chaos, fire and smoke obscuring a mad battlefield. Trolls, massive, orange furred humanoids in primative armor rampaged through the commercial district, shrugging off police bullets with contemptuous ease. Scattered around were injured officers and civilians, people fleeing for their lives from the violence unfolding in the heart of the city.

"God," Thunderstrike murmured weakly.

Putting as much confidence in her voice as she could Warbird barked, "We've got to contain the trolls, keep them away from the innocents. Let's go!"

War Machine fired off her repulsers first, quickly discovering that the trolls could easily shrug off the plasma energies, but thankfully brute force worked. With her superior strength the armored figure hammered a band of trolls back, boot thrusters flaring.

'Why do they seem so scared of me?' Thunderstrike wondered as she struck, her mace trailing lightning as she blasted another group back. Catching it she swung her mace in circles, the sky darkening suddenly before thunder boomed and lightning exploded downward.

Warbird ducked under a blow, updercutting the craggy faced beast before kicking him backwards. There were dozens of trolls but individually they weren't too tough, none of them able to match the three heroine's in strength. Hammering another backwards she blinked at a most unusual sight, 'What the hell...?'

Using the battle for cover a group of men and women were robbing the stores, more specifically just hitting all the jewlers. Mysteriously the trolls seemed to ignore them, rampaging around while these people stealthily grabbed the loot.

"Did you see that?" Warbird yellerd to the others.

"How the hell did they manage to conjure up the trolls to help conceal the robbery?" War Machine asked disbelievingly, her iron gauntlets pummeling a enemy unconscious.

"I dn't know," Thunderstrike struck the ground with the head of her mace, shockwaves sendinng crooks and trolls flying, "but I'd love to find out."

Before they could do more the human crooks seemed to wink out of existence, teleporting away with their ill gotten gains. "Damn it," Warbird growled as the trolls began to rally, "let's shut this down, people."

With a fury the three tore into the stunned, disorganized monsters, eventually subduing the army of trolls and containing them for the police to handle. War Machine listened to a message from Olivia and said, "These things are vulnerable to iron, iron bonds should hold them."

"Let's go," Thunderstrike said once the police had taken the trolls into custody.

"Anyone notice anything interesting?" Warbird asked the others as they took off.

"Another jewelry robbery, like the Wrecking Crew did," War Machine said promptly.

"There's another thing, too," Thunderstrike was quiet.

"Yes?" Warbird prompted.

"Both the trolls and the Wrecking Crew," Thunderstrike said softly while they soared over the city, "are conected to Asgard."

To be continued...


	7. Chapter 7

Avengers: Wreckage Seven

The beautiful blonde frowned as the last of her servants reappeared in her sanctum, the busy movie studio now eerily quiet as the last young man unloaded his bag full of jewels. Decorated like the hall of some lost king it glittered with gold and fine cloths, a lovely illusion.

"Lady Amora," he bowed respectfully, "we would have brought you more except for the interference of those heroes."

Amora of Asgard, called by some the Enchantress, sighed as she studied the magically generated image that was floating in the air, her light green dress hugging her body closely. Her blue eyes were narrowed in thought as she said, "I still find it hard to believe that they could defeat all my trolls so easily."

All the young men who worked for her were almost unearthly beautiful, professional models that vainly tried to match their mistress' beauty. "They are powerful," the black haired man noted, his suit crisp and neat, "and they seem to have an Asgardian with them."

"True," Amora nodded as she focused on the image of Thunderstrike. Shaking herself she commanded the men, "Leave me, I must think."

"Of course, m'lady," the redheaded man bowed to her formally as he lead the others from the room obediently.

Amora looked at the familiar armor and weapon that Thunderstrike carried and felt a pang of grief. Ragnarok, the end of the gods had finally come and Asgard was no more... the Giants, Dark Elves and other ancient foes had finally destroyed the golden realm. She herself had only escaped by leaving a false copy of herself there, fighting beside Asgard while she had quietly escaped to Earth with all the resources she could carry. She had thought all that remained of Asgard were her trolls, servants and a few artifacts so it was faintly shocking to see Thunderstrike in all her glory.

Her decision to settle here in Hollywood was an easy one, of course. Amora was a mistress of illusion, a thing that gave one great power here, and she still retained connections from her time here many years ago. She had recruited the Wrecking Crew by tracing the Asgardian magic on them, convincing the fools that her magic was needed to keep their powers, and she had put her staple of boy-toys together almost as easily.

'So why am I not content?' Amora thought bleakly.

Once again Amora found her gaze drawn towards Thunderstrike's image, looking at the black haired young woman dressed in chainmail, her silvery head dress and intense, narrowed eyes. Her face was beautiful, almost noble in her manner and focus, and the body concealed beneath the Asgardian garb was lovely.

Amora shook herself, feeling faintly annoyed. She got up from her throne and strode from the giant room, her golden mane flowing like a cape behind her. One of her many staff members, all of them interchangeable to her, nodded a greeting. "I'm going out," she said flatly, "have my secretary hold my calls."

"Ma'am," he nodded respectfully as she strode by.

The cherry red sports car waited in it's usual place and Amora got in, peeling out of the lot with a squeal of tires. She drove fast, pushing the speed limit till she hit a empty street then floored it. Suddenly, sirens wailed not far behind her, red and blue lights flashing behind her.

"Guess it wasn't as empty as I thought," Amora murmured as she pulled over. A cruiser pulled over as Amora undid a button on the front of her dress, letting a bit of cleavage show as she waited for the officer to arrive. The sound of footsteps then she looked up, faintly surprised to see a redheaded woman looking down at her.

Sunglasses concealed Officer O'connel's eyes, her cap straight and neat as she looked down at the blonde beauty. "Do you know how fast you were going?" she asked wryly, wondering if she'd pulled over another actress.

Amora felt a bit of disappointment at it being a woman, then noticed how her gaze seemed to be drawn to her breasts. 'Interesting,' Amora fought back a smile. "No, I'm sorry I didn't know," she purred innocently even as she released a bit of magic.

The officer took off her glasses, revealing striking green eyes. She blinked a few times. a faint blush coloring her cheeks but she tried to stay business like, "I'm sorry to say you were well over the speed limit, miss."

Amora took a breath, her breasts rising and falling as she sighed, "I'm so sorry, Miss...?"

"Sean," the redheaded officer blushed, surprised at the tingle of lust she felt gazing at the lady's full, perfect breasts.

"Sean," Amora put a hand on her arm, rubbing back and forth like petting a cat, "do you think you could forgive me... just this once?"

"I.. I shouldn't," Sean stammered huskily.

"Please?" Amora purred in a bedroom voice.

Sean gulped loudly, seemingly lost in her eyes. "Just... don't do it again,." she managed softly.

After thinking about it a second Amora reached into a pocket and handed Sean a business card. "Call me," she said, her look promising a great deal.

"I'll do that," Sean stepped back as Amora drove away.

'Nice to know I still have it,' Amora thought as she drove, smiling. She had been called the Enchantress not just because of her magic, but also for her seductive gifts. She had targeted and claimed may men over the years, many heroes and villains, but each time there was a new thrill to be had or a new challenge. She had rarely turned her gifts on her own gender, though... and her encounter with Sean had sparked a certain hunger.

There were few in this human world that Amora would consider worthy of her... she had dallied with the hero Wonder Man, there were a few others but that was all. But Thunderstike... even if she was a moral woman she carried a Asgardian essence within her. She might very well be worthy of Amora.. not to mention being a interesting challenge.

Smoothly Amora pulled her sports car in front of the restaurant and climbed out, striding by the line waiting to get in. The waiter guided her to a table and Amora nodded to the older man sitting at a corner table. "Mr. Stark," she nodded.

Morgan Stark nodded, his black hair messy and his suit a bit wrinkled. He had fallen a long way from being one of those Starks, a potential heir to the company. Now he was a middleman, helping arrange certain semi-legal actions by third parties. "The Wrecker wants to know how long you want him under wraps?" he asked flatly.

"The heat needs to die down more," Amora said as she sat. She grimaced, "Especially since he called on my magic in front of those heroes."

"That matters?" Morgan looked curious.

"Thunderstrike's mace is a wild card," Amora said simply, "it's quite possible she could trace me back by my magical signature."

"I'll pass that onto Thunderball," Morgan nodded, "he can figure out how to tell Wrecker so he'll understand." Thunderball was a former scientist before joining the wrecking crew, so he would likely understand Amora and know how to convince his somewhat dimmer comrades.

"Good," Amora nodded, "I noticed that the Raiders have been lying low?"

"The armored battlesuits they use are good," Morgan said with a shrug, "but with the new Stane heroes running around they're understandably nervous."

Amora leaned forward to give Morgan a dangerous look, "They owe me, Morgan, they'd better pay me back..."

"They'll do it," Morgan held up a calming hand, "just give them a bit of time."

"Hmph," Amora shook her head.

Morgan took out a personal organizer. "We've got several independent operators looking to set up shop in the city Boss," he passed the device over to Amora.

"Sakura and Feral..." Amora raised a eyebrow in question, "I thought those assassins lived and worked in Asia?"

"Maybe they're tired of sushi?" Morgan shrugged.

"Let them know they can come, but reject the rest politely," Amora passed the organizer over, "we need to keep the supervillain activity in town under control."

"So we don't draw more superheroes," Morgan nodded wisely. He looked curious, "So why let Feral and Sakura operate here?"

"Because," Amora smiled coldly, "you can always use assassins."

"Do you need anything else?" Morgan asked, He smiled slightly, "I still need to go pay off Ultra Girl to leave our operations alone."

"Go to it," Amora dismissed him before waving down a waiter and ordering.

To be continued...

Notes: Amora the Enchantress is a long tome Thor and Avengers villain. Morgan Stark has been a pain in the ass to Tony for years, plotting to get hold of his company. Finally, Feral and Sakura are from my older fic, Adventures of Shadowcat and Rogue.


	8. Chapter 8

Avengers: Wreckage Eight

"Not bad at all," Ron Black muttered as the somewhat rumpled looking editor handed Carol Danvers a copy of the Herald, her story on the attacking Trolls on the front page.

"Thank you," Carol smiled, the blonde's eyes skimming over the report though she knew it by heart. A summary of the Trolls rampage, the heroes sudden appearance and finally the defeat of all the creatures. The business suited woman handed the preview copy back as she added, "I was just lucky to get so close."

"Don't get cocky," Ron said dryly as he headed to his office, "just because you've gotten front page a few times."

Carol nodded, "Right."

"Congratulations," Heather said, the brown haired accountant smiling a bit as she swung by Carol's desk, her jumpsuit neat and form fitting. She leaned her hip against the desk and dropped her voice, "You up to a victory party with the girls?"

"Victory?"Carol looked curious.

Heather gave her a grin as she reminded the other woman, "You've beaten the two week curse of crime reporters."

Carol smiled back as she teased, "Did I forget to mention I was quitting today?"

"Don't even joke," Heather laughed. She pushed herself to her feet as she asked cheerfully, "So, how about it?"

"Why not," Carol said, "meeting at the Oasis again?"

"Unless we find somewhere more interesting," Heather said, "we'll call you on your cellphone if needed."

"Got it," Carol waved as Heather left the busy newsroom.

Carol went to work on a rash of high tech robberies, consulting her own notes and the police briefing. The police weren't having much luck catching the battle-armor clad crooks, and a few officers had privately told her they were thinking of appealing for superhuman aide.

"Hey, Danvers," the rough voiced man said as a shadow stretched over her desk,

"Yes," Carol looked up, recognizing the older reporter. Chad Smith was a fixture here, a forty year old reporter who had worked his was up from a cub reporter to a investigative journalist. Slouching there in his stained suit he looked harmless, but Carol watched him warily.

Chad dropped his voice, "You know about Heather, right?"

Carol had a bad feeling she knew what he was talking about, but played innocent. "No, what?" she asked brightly.

"She's a," Chard hissed, "lesbian. Wouldn't want a pretty girl like you getting involved with that type."

"I never realized," Carol faked being surprised.

"Yeah, those deviant types hide out everywhere," Chad added in a whisper, "you really have to watch yourself."

Finally Carol couldn't control herself and burst into laughter.

"What?" Chad reeled back in surprise.

"What decade are you from?" Carol sniggered. "The evil predatory lesbian is going to get me?" she laughed.

"Hump," Chad pulled back, straightening up his suit before he stalked away, his back stiff with irritation.

"Way to go," Monica Strewart purred, the older redhead grinning at Carol from her desk nearby. "Sorry," she added, "should have warned you."

"Bit reactionary?" Carol looked amused.

"Just a bit," Monica agreed. She checked her watch then asked cheerfully, "You want to go sneak out early?"

"We going to get into trouble?" Carol asked as she saved her files.

"We've both got our stories on file for tomorrow's edition," Monica countered, "Ron should be happy, I think." She laughed, "If he;'s short he can always write another one of his long winded editorials."

Carol chuckled, knowing that was a regular tactic of smaller papers. She got up and grabbed her coat, "All right, let's go."

Like two teenagers playing hooky Monica and Carol hurried out of the newsroom, Monica giving the annoyed looking Chad a cheerful little wave. Heading down to the parking lot beneath the building Monica said, "You want to ride with me this time?"

"Oh what the hell," Carol shrugged, "I can always get a ride back."

"I'm sure that Heather'd be willing to give you a ride," Monica teased, unlocking the doors of her older model Toyota.

"You too?" Carol looked curious.

Monica got behind the wheel, smiling impishly as she put the key in the ignition. "Well, I think she's a little curious about you," she revealed, both putting on their seat belts. The car started up with a rumble and they swung out into traffic, soon accelerating and weaving between cars in a breakneck speeds.

If Carol wasn't mostly invulnerable she'd have been worried. As it was she was warily watching other cars, hoping there wouldn't be a accident. "I'm not sure I really swing that way," Carol said, a bit surprised at any uncertainty in her voice. She thought of Thunderstrike and felt herself blush just as little.

"Oh ho," Monica smiled a bit, calmly evading a near crash, again.

"Eeep," Carol gasped as they zipped into a very small space between two trucks. "It's not exactly what you think," she said.

"I'm not judging," Monica said as she whipped around a corner, the whole car rocking a bit as it went up on one wheel. "Hell, I went out with Heather for a bit," she confided, nearly talking out a mail box in the process.

"I wouldn't have thought..." Coral said, gulping as they raced at a garbage truck.

At the last moment Monica wrenched the wheel aside, zipping them clear. "I consider myself bi," she revealed cheerfully, "though I have to admit those nights with Heather nearly turned me to the other side of the force, so to speak."

Carol nearly choked at that.

"Here we go," Monica proceeded to cut across several lanes of traffic, causing squealing tires and loud honking of horns. "We're here," she said cheerfully.

Carol opened her eyes, only then becoming aware that she had clenched her eyes shut for the last while. The familiar Oasis bar was there, as she remembered, and outside their friends were parked. "Thank you for the ride," she puffed out a relieved breath.

"No problem," Monica laughed as they headed inside.

The bar was packed with men and woman and Carol cheerfully let the aggressive Monica lead the way to a back table. The usual suspects waved as they approached, the band of women smiling greetings as they each took their seats.

"And the girl of the hour is here," Elisa drawled, eyes twinkling.

"Be nice, Elisa," Bette firmly elbowed her in the ribs, the brash brown haired woman giving her a scolding look.

Catty grinned, the lovely blonde helping the newcomers steal some chairs from a nearby table. "About time," she said, "I want to eat soon."

"Don't these chairs belong to someone?" Carol asked as they pulled off the coats hanging on the chairs and tossed them on a empty table.

"Maybe," Monica sat down, "but do you really thing they want to take on all of us?"

"No way," Catty laughed.

Lynn sniggered, the reddish-gold haired woman taking a drink. "You got that right," she nodded firmly in agreement. She looked at Carol, "Three front pagers in as many weeks, I think that's a record."

"Thank you," Carol smiled, "it was nothing."

There was soft laughter around the table at that comment. Part of why Carol had made the front page was because of how close she had gotten to the action, and the sort of risks she had taken to do it. As people who worked in the newspaper business they understood the stakes involved, and how much more than nothing it was.

Seeing Carol's discomfort on the focus on her Heather spoke up to brightly ask, "Well, who's ready to order some food?"

"I'm starved," Catty admitted with a chuckle.

"Thanks," Carol said to Heather softly, and Heather just flashed a bright smile.

To be continued...


	9. Chapter 9

Avengers: Wreckage Nine

Jackie Lucas briskly walked up to the gates of Stane Enterprises, the black haired woman dressed in one of her best business suits, a large carry bag at her side holding her enchanted Asgardian mace, Thunderstrike. Her rental car was parked in the secondary lot not far away, the back seat and trunk both loaded with her worldly possessions as she joyfully moved out of the dive she had been living in.

"Good morning," Jackie nodded to the guard as she passed over her new company identification card.

"Miss Lucas," the brown haired young man nodded a greeting as he scanned the card into the computer system. "All clear," the brown haired man smiled as he hit the switch to open the gate, "go on in."

"Thanks," Jackie smiled back, walking at a brisk pace up the lane towards the main set of office buildings.

Stane Enterprises was a busy complex, even this early in the morning, with men and women hurrying about. There was a set of warehouses to one side, where crates of equipment were being off loaded, while a group of young men and women carrying blue prints and personal organizers cheerfully headed to work.

"Welcome," Connie Leeds jogged up, the brown haired woman falling into step beside her, "you're early for the meeting."

"Thought it's be better to be early than late," Jackie answered as they headed towards the main office tower.

"And you're a little nervous," Connie said perceptively, the personnel administrator looking positively impish. .

"Well, yes," Jackie admitted, blushing a bit.

"Don't be, nobody bites here," Connie said as they went into the air-conditioned lobby. "Hi May," she waved to a black haired woman sitting at the front desk.

"Hi there," May smiled, her long hair held back by two blue clips that nearly matched the color of her suit. She gave Jackie a almost predatory look, "Who's your friend?"

"She's new, down girl," Connie sounded amused. Turning to Jackie she said, "Meet May Scott, security and unofficial staff Romeo."

"Hey," May protested indignantly, "I'm way better than Romeo."

"Whatever," Connie rolled her eyes jokingly.

"Nice to meet you," Jackie fought back a smile as she offered May her hand.

"Charmed, I'm sure," May nearly purred as she held on to Jackie's hand just a little longer than needed.

"Let go, May," a clearly amused Connie said as she tugged on Jackie's arm, "we're on our way to a meeting."

May sat back down at her desk as she called, "I hope I'll see you around."

"She's such a flirt," Connie sounded more amused than anything else as they went into the elevator, the doors closing with a soft hiss.

"You don't seem too bothered by that," Jackie smiled as they went up.

"May is harmless," Connie waved it off. She looked up at Jackie, "Does it bother you? I can tell her to lay off..."

"No, it's all right," Jackie blushed a bit as she hesitantly admitted, "I'm actually kind of complimented, I guess."

"That's the spirit," Connie mock punched Jackie in the shoulder then visibly winced. "Owww," she cupped her hand, "you have muscles like iron under that suit!"

"Sorry," Jackie sighed.

What Jackie didn't say was that her muscles were in fact a side effect of her seemingly permanent transformation to Thunderstike. She always seemed to be in Asgardian form, in disguise or not, and her body was pure sculpted muscle. It was something Jackie was still trying to get used to, even months after her initial change.

"I'm kinda curious to see what you look like under the business wear," Connie admitted as the elevator stopped and the doors opened.

"Ah..." Jackie started, not entirely sure what to say to that.

Connie winked, "Just kidding." They headed out with her leading the way, "The meeting's just down the hall here."

"So, have you been working here long?" Jackie asked.

"Nearly a year," Connie said cheerfully, "I was one of Olivia's first recruits, then I helped her head-hunt the staff she wanted."

"She sounds like a very capable woman," Jackie noted as they reached a door.

"Oh, she is," Connie agreed as she knocked on the door with her knuckles. "Hey, it's open," she pushed, the door swung in and...

"Eeep," Jackie quickly grabbed the door handle and pulled it shut again before they got a even better view of what Olivia Stane and Jennifer Swensen were doing there on top of the board room table.

"Guess we're a little too early," Connie noted, apparently entirely unbothered by what they had just seen.

"Oh god," Jackie fought back a blush, rubbing at her face.

"Want to go get a coffee?" Connie offered, "It'll give them a chance to, ah, finish up."

"You're taking this awfully calmly," Jackie sighed as they headed down the hall, presumedly to go to a cafeteria.

"They're sort of in the newlywed stage," Connie said impishly, "while it doesn't happen often they have had a few such... incidents."

"That had to have been interesting."

Meanwhile, back in the boardroom a fiercely blushing Jennifer was pulling up her skirt as she said, "I though you said we had time?"

Olivia hopped down from where she was sitting on the table, the nearly white blonde haired woman doing up her blouse, "We should have." She made a face, "I guess Jackie got here early and Connie brought her up."

"Remind me to give Connie some grief for that," Jennifer said, the redhead typing up her clothes as much as possible.

"I shouldn't have started something here," Olivia admitted wryly. She strightened her clothes then brushed at her hair, "How do I look?"

"Beautiful," Jennifer smiled slightly.

"Thank you," Olivia smiled back, "though it was comments like that, that got us into this mess in the first place."

"True," Jennifer chuckled softly.

Once she looked reasonably presentable Olivia asked, "Should we go look for them?"

"Yeah, because if we stay in here alone we're probably going to get in trouble again," Jennifer said with some amusement.

"I can think of worse things," Olivia said. After a fast pit stop in the ladies bathroom to clean up and a fast mirror check, both women set out looking for the other pair.

"You even have Starbucks here?" Jackie said in surprise as they collected their coffees and sat at a table by the window. The cafeteria was styled more like a restaurant, with nice tables, indirect lighting and plush carpet from wall to wall.

"Only the best for our staff," Connie said cheerfully.

Jackie munched on a breakfast sandwich and blinked, "I see what you mean."

"Try the eggs one time," Connie winked, "they're to die for."

"The meeting today," Jackie dropped her voice, "what's it about?"

"I really shouldn't tell you," Connie looked down at her cup, stirring her coffee.

"I'm nervous enough about all this as it is," Jackie said, abandoning her bravado a moment and letting her nerves show through.

Connie gave her a sympathetic look, "It's nothing too bad."

"No, not at all," Olivia said as she and Jennifer walked up to the table.

"Nice to see you, boss," Connie smiled. Her expression became wicked, "Or is it, nice to see less of you?"

"We got distracted," Jennifer conceded as she grabbed two chairs and pulled them over to Connie and Jackie's table.

"I'm sorry that we..." Jackie started.

"It's all right," Olivia waved it off. "What I intended to talk about was the planned media push we'll be doing for the team," she said, "we'd like you to participate in it."

Jackie puffed out a breath, "As long as I have Warbird and War Machine backing me up."

"They'll be there," Olivia nodded.

"I'm going to ask Danvers to coach us on interviews, too," Jennifer added,

"Maybe give her a exclusive, too," Connie suggested.

"Not a bad idea," Olivia agreed.

To be continued...


	10. Chapter 10

Avengers: Wreckage Ten

"Are you sure it's a good idea to have our headquarters so near your employees?" Warbird asked, the blonde dressed in her usual black and gold uniform.

Olivia Stane smiled back calmly as the jeep they were in bounced a bit, heading towards the rear of the Stane Enterprises lot. "We have more than adequate security," the nearly white haired woman answered, "and the building is as far away from regular staff as I could manage and still be on the property."

"None of us want to see innocents hurt," War Machine said firmly, the black and silver armored figure sitting by Olivia in the driver's seat. She and Olivia were up front, with Warbird and Thunderstrike in the back seat, talking loudly over the wind.

"Of course not," Thunderstrike agreed, her long black hair blowing in the breeze, her Asgardian style garb resembling armor from another era. The chainmail shirt fit her tightly to reveal well shaped breasts, black leggings tucked into golden boots and a bold red cape finishing off the look.

A squarish three storey building soon came into view behind a carefully planted strand of trees, with a high gate around it. A harmless red laser beam washed over them and the jeep for a second or two as they came up to the gate, then with a soft beep the door slid away to let them go up the drive.

Painted white it had a office look rather than a residential, with windows all around the first and third floors. It was reasonably large, probably with the sort of space a smaller office building might have, and from the looks of things they had just finished some kind of renovations to the facility.

"Sorry about the dust," Olivia said as she got out of the jeep, the slight breeze on this bright and sunny day stirring up the dirt left over from construction, "we only finished work a few days ago."

"You built this facility specially for us?" Thunderstrike asked curiously.

Olivia's eyes twinkled with amusement, "Well it was going to be my and Jennifer's love shack, but I thought you could use it more."

"Olivia!" War Machine sqwaked.

Warbird fought back a chuckle as they went up to the double doors, also noting Thunderstrike's blush. 'Wonder what that's all about?' she thought.

Another security scan washed over them as Olivia said, "We wanted to make the facility as secure as possible. In the reconstruction titanium reinforcement was added to the outer walls, as well as other improvements."

The scan stopped and the door unlocked with a soft sound. "The security scan is automatic," War Machine noted, "and we'll also issue you special pass cards for the system. We hope you'll be comfortable using the facility in your off hours too."

"So this is going to be our superhero clubhouse as well as headquarters?" Thunderstrike asked with amusement.

"Actually, there is a pool table," Olivia smirked as they went inside, "and a decent recreation room.".

The main entrance way was a large chamber, nearly two stories tall, with a polished tile floor that gleamed. Three doors led off of it, one at the back and two smaller doors to the right and left. The rear door led into another large room, with a round table and comfortable business style chairs waiting. A sophisticated computer system was up against one wall, a radio broadcasting rig as well as a coffee and espresso machine.

"Coffee?" Warbird smirked.

War Machine flipped up the face plate of her armor as Jennifer Swensen smiled, the redhead looking sheepish. "I'm a bit of a addict," she smilingly confessed, "I insisted on at least having good coffee."

"You should see her in the mornings," Olivia smiled cheerfully as she made up a coffee and a cup of tea, "just a grumpy ol' teddy bear."

Thunderstrike had to fight hard at hiding her amusement on seeing the two women together. She had met gay people before, of course, who in New York hadn't, but these two took the cake. "May I?" she asked, going to the espresso machine.

"Help yourself," Olivia addressed both her and Warbird.

Fetching a water from a mini-fridge Warbird took a seat, soon followed by Thunderstrike and War Machine with their coffees and Olivia with a cup of tea. "So," Warbird addressed them, "how do we want to organize this?"

"You're team leader," War Machine said promptly.

"Miss?" Warbird looked questioningly at Olivia.

"Your internal organization is up to you," Olivia said promptly, "my intention is to stay hands off your operations." A smirk, "Just consider me your sugar daddy. Or mommy."

Thunderstrike nearly choked on her coffee with that remark while War Machine scolded her lover. Again. "What else is in here?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Rec room, training hall," War Machine said briskly, "a public relations office and mini-studio, as well as a full kitchen and living quarters if needed."

"PR office and studio?" Warbird raised a eyebrow.

"This is LA," Olivia noted.

"Good point," Warbird conceded.

"We'll also have one or two staff members here at all times," War Machine added. "In addition to monitoring police band and keeping us updated to emergencies, we'll also have cleaning staff and a cook, too."

"Do we really need a cook?" Thunderstrike looked surprised.

"I usually get takeout," Warbird admitted after a moment.

War Machine looked amused as she drank her coffee, "I can make instant noodles with the best of them. And I do a mean kraft dinner."

"Sorry," Olivia shrugged, "I have a professional cook at home for a reason."

Thunderstrike shook her head, "Okay, we need a cook."

"Miss Stane, I..." Connie said as she strode in from a side door. "Oh, everyone's here," she said brightly.

"You've all met Connie I trust," Olivia smiled as the brown haired woman hurried over to the table, "she's one of the staff who volunteered to help run your headquarters."

"Don't listen to her," Connie joked, "we're slave labor. Anybody who pisses her off at the office has to work here with you all." With that she winked impishly at Thunderstrike.

Warbird blinked, faintly surprised at the flash of jealousy that wink caused. 'What the hell?' she thought, trying to figure out her odd reaction.

"I'm sure they'd exile a capable employee like you," Thunderstrike teased back with a little smile.

"You're such a charmer," Connie laughed.

Warbird fought the uncharitable urge to get Connie away from Thunderstrike by force. "So what will you be doing for us, Miss Leeds?" she asked a bit flatly.

Connie looked up at Warbird with eyes that were first surprised, then worryingly perceptive. "In addition to my normal personnel duties I had experience with the police," a smile, "I was a volunteer dispatcher. I'd like to do similar duties with you, if I can."

"We'll have a rotating group of volunteers,"Olivia added, "including both Connie and myself."

"I thought we were going to talk about you volunteering?" War Machine asked, giving her girl friend a pained smile.

"We are," Olivia flashed a smile, "but you know I'm going to win that argument." A smirk, "As a last resort I can always withhold..."

"Olivia!" War Machine squeaked.

"TMI," Connie blushed.

"Way too much information," Warbird found herself chuckling. She turned in her seat to gaze out a window at the trees within the fenced off yard as she thought, 'This is going to be an interesting job.'

"So, should we see the rest of the building or..." Thunderstrike asked into the awkward moment of silence.

BA-WOOGA!

"What the...?" Warbird jerked as the loud siren pierced the room.

Connie leapt from her chair and raced to the computer. "That only goes off it there's a superhuman crime reported," she jumped into the chair, "and officers on scene have requested assistance."

"What is it?" Olivia asked as her lover War Machine flipped her face plate down and readied herself for action.

Connie pulled on a headset hanging on a hook, "According to this it's those high tech thieves the Raiders. They're hitting the bank on 41st and Oak."

"Shall we?" Warbird asked as she lead the way to the door.

"Let's," Thunderstrike agreed as she and War Machine followed her out.

"Good luck," Olivia murmured.

To be continued...


	11. Chapter 11

Avengers Wreckage

The Enchantress leaned forward, her simple gown revealing a sexy bit of cleavage as the blonde studied the image in her scrying pool. Amora winced as Thunderstrike hammered a Raider from the air with her mace, "That's got to hurt."

Her Raiders were armored criminals, wearing red, blue and silver designed knock offs of Iron Man tech. They could fly, were fairly durable and the blasters mounted on each arm easily out-gunned the police, however they weren't doing so well against these three. Individually the suits didn't come close to the power of any one of the three heroines, and they weren't coordinating well as a group.

"They're going down," Morgan Stark said, the somewhat rumpled looking business man standing nearby on the sound stage that Amora liked using as a headquarters. He looked at Amora, "Do you think you should pull them out?"

Several of the Raiders attempted to dogpile on War Machine, but were easily shrugged off as the suits shoulder cannon began to target their vulnerable joints. In moments she disabled several as the wild melee continued.

"No," Amora shook her head, "if they can't deal with this, they're of no use to me." With a wave of her hand she banished the view of the battle, "We'll need to do some recruiting."

From a inside pocket of his suit Morgan removed a personal organizer. "Any preferences?" he asked as he scrolled through his files.

"Power and flexibility," Amora mused, "who we bring in will need to be able to face off against any one of the three heroes."

"Major names?" Morgan mused.

"They usually have pride issues," Amora noted, "I don't want rivals, just minions."

"Carolyn Trainer, the Lady Octopus is currently in jail," Morgan mused, "but she's a follower and a potential asset. We could spring her fairly easily."

Amora looked at the picture he called up dubiously, "I don't like technology, still... make the arrangements."

"Three agents?" Morgan continued his search.

"Five, I would think, all formidable fighters," Amora mused, "we need to be sure."

"How about the assassins Feral and Sakura?" Morgan asked as he remembered she had allowed them into the city.

"No, not yet," Amora shook her head, "we may need to capture them, not kill."

After a period of work they found their five candidates, then Morgan left with a respectful bow. "I'll have a report on their availability tomorrow," he said, "they should begin to arrive in a few days."

"Do that," Amora casually waved him away.

Sitting back on her throne Amora reactivated the crying pool, gazing at the three adventurers before focusing her gaze on Thunderstrike. The armored woman moved with grace and power, dealing out punishing blows with her fists and mace. She looked stunning in the sunlight, glittering like a star amid the common streets of Los Angeles.

Amora felt her pulse race a bit as she studied Thunderstrike, this mortal who used a piece of Asgardian power. "Yes," she murmured as Thunderstrike felled another foe, "you may very well be worthy of me."

Meanwhile, on that street Warbird casually tore the power back off the back of one of the last raider suits, carrying the stunned pilot to the ground. All around them a busy commercial street was in ruins, store windows busted, fire hydrants spewing water and several cars burning away cheerfully.

"Is everyone all right?" Warbird asked, the blonde haired woman's black bathing suit like costume clinging to every curve.

"I'm fine," War Machine reassured her, the metallic grey armored figure casually tossing a fallen raider onto a stack of unconscious foes.

Thunderstrike's long black hair flowed around her head as she smiled wryly, "I'm a bit tired, but good."

'Nice to see that she has some physical limits,' Carol reflected as Warbird landed. They had spent nearly half a hour fighting these fools as well as chasing them down, none of which had been terribly easy. "All right," Warbird shook her slightly dazed captive awake, "who sent you? Who's giving the orders around here?"

"I don't..." the young man's helm partially obscured his face, but his confusion was obvious as he stammered, "I don't know. Who am I? Where are we?"

"You have got to be kidding me," War Machine muttered, making a imposing figure as the masculine looking armor loomed nearby.

"What?" Thunderstrike asked, looking at the two of them warily.

"Amnesia is a common malady with super crooks in this town," War Machine sounded disgusted, "it's like something makes career crooks forget anything useful once they're caught."

"And it's not an act?" Warbird asked as she put the armored crook down on the ground with his fallen band of cohorts.

"Medical examinations and psyche profiles all hold up," War Machine confirmed.

"Well that's annoying," Thunderstrike frowned as the first police sirens began to wail. She looked at the other two heroines, "Should we stick around?"

"Yeah, I assume we want to play nice with the police for Olivia's sake," Warbird said, a bit of annoyance in her voice.

The arrival of the police soon lead to much heated discussion on their activities and the property damage, though the responding officers were more than grudgingly grateful for the defeat of the Raiders group. In the end several paddy wagons picked up the crooks and carted them off, and the three heroes took off together.

"I need to take off a while," Warbird informed them, peeling off from the flight to Stane's headquarters, "I'll check in again later."

"No problem," War Machine agreed, "I can report to Olivia on my own if we need to."

"I'd better take off too," Thunderstrike admitted, "I need to go apartment hunting."

Warbird smiled as she soared across the city, mentally composing the story she'd write as Carol Danvers, crime reporter. Landing nearby she reverted to her civilian identity and rushed inside, hurrying to her desk and typing away on the older computer furiously.

"Danvers!" her boss Ron roared, "Where's the story on..."

"I'm putting the last touches on a story on the Raider;'s capture," Carol shouted back, not even pausing in her typing.

"Heh," Ron smiled slightly, heading back into his office.

"You know, he'd normally rip someone's head off for a response like that," a amused female voice noted, "I think he likes you."

Carol didn't even look up from the screen as she said wryly, "Monica, that is a vaguely scary thought."

Monica Stewart chuckled softly, the older redhead shaking her head slightly. "Well, that and you're our most productive reporter. Two stories a day, and fillers too? He loves you," she laughed softly.

"Eww," Carol shuddered as she finished and zapped the story to editorial to review.

In actuality, this job had ended up about as easy as any other she had. She had gotten pretty good at hammering out paperwork during her days with the CIA and later with homeland security, and writing articles wasn't all that different. Of course, shedding the dry governmental style had taken some effort, but she was managing.

"Heather's been asking around about you," Monica said as she sat down, "I think she's got a crush on you."

"Really?" Carol blinked.

"Damn you can be innocent some times," Monica chuckles. "Wanna talk it over with some dinner?"

"Yes, please," Carol sighed as her stomach growled loudly.

To be continued...


	12. Chapter 12

Anengers Wreckage

"What do you think, ma'am?" the slim brown haired woman pushed up her glasses as she lead her client around the rooms of the apartment. Dressed in a business suit she tried to look formal, but the rebellious strands of her curly hair defeated that intention.

"Pretty nice," Jackie Lucas admitted, the taller black haired woman looking around with a nod. "First month's rent and deposit?" she asked.

"Yes miss," the young woman agreed. She rather akwardly brought her clipboard around, "Sign here?"

"Right," Jackie took a moment to read over the papers. 'Thank god for the job at Stane,' she silently mused, 'I'd never be able to afford this on what's left of my savings.' She signed with a flourish, "Here you go."

"Thank you," she smiled up at Jackie. A bit hesitantly she added, "Do you need recommendations for a moving company?"

"I think I can manage," Jackie said as she took the keys from the young lady, "but thanks for the offer."

They both walked out to the hallway, the older building comfortable yet still close to the busy city center. "Well," she said, "I hope you enjoy staying at the Beverly Malibu."

"I will," Jackie smiled as they younger woman shook her hand then hurried off, presumedly to another appointment.

As Jackie was about to enter her suite she heard a frantic voice call, "Look out!"

Spinning around Jackie barely managed to catch the young woman, her, the lady and the lady's basket of clothes spilling out to the ground. "Are you all right?" Jackie asked, finding herself looking up into beautiful blue eyes.

"Thank you," the blonde pushed herself up, looking sheepish as she continued, "I'm fine." She brushed one of Jackie's arms, feeling the muscle beneath her jacket as her eyes widened, "Geeze, you're strong."

"Not bad," Jackie said as she got to her feet, then offered the young lady her hand. "Jackie Lucas," she introduced herself.

"Amy Ray," she smiled charmingly up at Jackie. Brushing her cut offs and tight t-shirt off she smiled, "So you're our new neighbor?"

"Yeah, just signed the paperwork this morning," Jackie agreed. She sighed a bit regretfully, "Sorry, I have to get going..."

"Nice to meet you," Amy smiled and waved as Jackie headed off down the hall, "I hope I'll see you again sometime."

"We'll see," Jackie waved as she disappeared out the front door.

Amy waited for a few moments then called out in a much more business-like tone, "Okay, you can have your clothes back."

A somewhat more mousy black haired young woman hurried up, her sweat suit much less charming looking. "Why did you want to borrow my clothes basket, miss?" she asked as she took a fifty dollar bill from the pretty woman.

"You ever hear of meeting cute?" Amy smiled, "It's a tradition in movies for couples to meet in cute, funny ways. It's memorable, and I want to be memorable to her."

"So you're an actress?" the young lady pushed up her glasses.

"You could say that," Amy Ray, also known as Amora the Enchantress, smiled slightly. Finding out Thunderstrike was the Lucas woman was easy, and it seemed tailing her here could provide several opportunities. "Now where did that realtor go," she trotted off with a satisfied smile, "I need to get a suite here, too."

Unaware of the plotting going on Jackie slipped into a alley and took out the battered mace from her shoulder bag. Raising it up she hammered the handle to the ground as lightning crash, transforming her into the asgardian armored Thunderstrike. Spinning her mace in a circle she flung it into the air as she grabbed the chain attached to the end, the mystical weapon carrying her swiftly into blue sky.

'I'll never get used to this,' Thunderstrike thought to herself as she soared across the city of Los Angeles. In minutes she reached a battered old hotel in the less successful part of town, landing unobserved on the roof. Transforming to normal Jackie descended the stairs to her apartment, unlocking the door and surveying the shabby interior.

'Glad this is over,' Jackie mused as she grabbed her suit case and pulled the few items hanging in the closet down. Packing up only took a few minutes, then after sweeping the room with her eyes for anything left she headed downstairs.

"Yeah?" the old man who ran the hotel asked as she neared.

"I'm checking out," Jackie said, "what do I owe you?"

He looked at her in surprise, a cigarette dangling at the corner of his mouth. His brown eyes narrowed a bit, "Oh really? You make some kinda big score, lady?"

Jackie felt herself stiffen as several men lounging in the hallway stood up. "No, not that it's any business of yours," she replied, shifting her feet slightly.

"I say it is," he gestured to the men to come over, "especially if I think you can pay a bit more rent, lady... maybe a moving fee?"

"You don't want to do this," Jackie warned, seeing the young men bracing themselves for what they probably thought was a easy fight.

A teen popped a switchblade, "Oh, I think we do."

Jackie cracked her knuckles, "I tried to warn you."

A few minutes later the hallway was filled with unconscious men and broken glass, and a police car had pulled up to investigate the ruckus. "So," Officer Sean O'Connel asked, the redhead jotting down notes, "you were checking out, the manager decided to shake you down and you fought back?"

"That would be it," Jackie agreed.

"Tuh b'tch ish luyin," the manager slurred through a broken jaw.

"Give it a rest," Sean gave the man a withering look, "we both know the contents of your rap sheet." She turned back to Jackie, "Sorry for the trouble. Do you intend to press charges against him and his friends? I bet the security cams here caught it all on tape."

Jackie had to fight a smile as the crook's face went white. "No harm done to me," Jackie said, "but maybe we can stop him from trying it on someone else."

"Good," Sean smiled, "you mind going downtown with me?" She looked apologetic, "We'll need a statement there, too."

"Will do," Jackie agreed, knowing that her furniture shopping was going to be delayed for a bit longer.

Over an hour later Jackie stood outside the police station, her suitcases sitting at her feet. 'All right,' she thought a little tiredly, 'back to the Malibu where I'll drop these off, then I have to go buy a bed.'

"Can I give you a hand?" Sean came up beside her to offer, having changed out of uniform to a simple shirt and jeans.

"Just have some errands to run," Jackie smiled slightly.

"Need a ride?" Sean offered, looking down at the suitcases. "Otherwise, I can call you a cab," she offered.

Jackie considered the offer, liking the look in her green eyes. "I'd like a ride, then," she admitted, "if you don't mind."

"Good," Sean grinned, trotting off before returning a few moments later in a older model sports car. She got out and tossed the suitcases into the back seat, "Where to?"

"The Beverly Malibu," Jackie said as she climbed in the passenger side.

Sean checked both ways then pulled out into traffic as she said, "The Malibu? Did you know there was a famous murder there a few years back?"

"No, but with my luck," Jackie smiled wryly, "that's the apartment I just rented."

Sean chuckled softly, "Even if it was, it was years ago." They smoothly sped through traffic, "Pardon my asking, but how do you manage in LA without a car?"

Jackie chuckled, "I have ways."She looked out the window, the wind sweeping her hair back as she admitted, "I suppose I'll need to get one, though."

Sean swept Jackie with her eyes before turning back to the road. "I could make a few suggestions..." she said with a smile.

"Why are you being so friendly?" Jackie had to ask, "I'm from New York, this sort of thing doesn't happen very much."

That got a laugh from Sean. "Not so much here, too," she admitted, "but you have this... little lost lamb look about you."

"You think that after I beat those men up?" Jackie blinked.

"Physically you're tough," Sean agreed, though she probably had no idea how tough Jackie really was, "but you do have a oddly helpless side, too."

"I'll have to think about it," Jackie conceded.

They pulled up in front of the small, old fashioned building as Sean smiled, "Sorry if I was being too intrusive."

Jackie grabbed her suitcases and smiled, "Nah, it's all right. You may even have a point."

"Well," Sean took one of her cards out, writing her number on it, "if you need a hand, call me. I'd like to help."

"I'll keep that in mind," Jackie promised then watched her drive away.

To be continued...


	13. Chapter 13

Avengers Wreckage

Olivia Stane took a nervous breath as she looked at her lover. The nearly while-blonde haired woman got up from her desk, pacing around the office a bit as the smartly dressed woman murmured, "When is he getting here?"

Jennifer Swensen reached out to pat Olivia's arm gently as the redhead in a bit of a rumpled suit soothed, "It's still early, love."

"I know," Olivia conceded as she ran a hand through her hair, "but..."

Just then Connie Leeds voice came from the intercom, "He's been sighted on the way, ma'am. ETA is five minutes or less."

"Thanks Connie," Jen responded calmly. She turned back to Olivia, "Best to take a seat behind the desk. Gives more of a aura of authority."

"Right," Oliva gracefully sat down, taking a few deep soothing breaths as she tried to mentally prepare herself.

Outside the upper story window they saw the sleek black sports car come up to the front gate, there was a short conversation then he hurried on. Parking in front of the main building the black haired man picked up a suitcase and adjusted his tie before going in.

"Ms. Stane," Connie said with unusual seriousness through the intercom to the office, "Anthony Stark is here to see you."

"Send him up," Olivia answered firmly even as Jennifer took on a near military stance waiting nearby.

A few moments later and they heard the elevator chime, then Tony opened up the door and went in. "Ms. Stane," he nodded respectfully, "what do I owe the honor of this invitation?"

Olivia rose to offer her hand, noting how firmly he shook it. "I thought we needed to clear the air," she answered firmly, waving Tony to a seat.

"Oh?" Tony looked at her thoughtfully.

"I've read my father Obadiah's diaries," Olivia said flatly, "I'm well aware of the tortures and harm he did to you and your friends."

Tony nodded slightly, keeping his face mostly expressionless. "Then you can understand," he said dryly, "why I'm a little wary of you, especially since your primary agent wears a copy of one of my armors."

"It's not," Jen spoke up calmly, "a copy of your designs, sir." She walked up to him, "Jennifer Swensen, formerly of MIT robotics."

"I remember you," Tony reluctantly admitted, "I once tried to recruit you for Stark International."

Jennifer met his gaze calmly as she said, "Then I also assume you remember the technology I was working on."

"MACS," Tony murmured, "man amplified combat system."

"Exactly," Olivia stepped in, "and it is the refined version of that technology that is the basis of our War Machine."

"And the name?" Tony raised a eyebrow.

Olivia opened her hands in a shrugging motion, "There is no copyright on file for the name, Mr. Stark. Unlike your own Iron Man identity."

"I was only Iron Man temporarily," Tony replied smoothly, "there is a Stark Enterprises employee in the suit now."

"Certainly," Olivia nodded agreeably.

Tony rose, "As we're both based on the west coast I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again."

Olivia walked him to the door, "I look forward to it."

Tony paused in the doorway, "I'll be keeping an eye on you." And with that, he was gone.

"Whew," Jen slumped in a seat.

Olivia smiled weakly, "I'm glad that's over."

Jen and Olivia moved over to the couch and flopped down tiredly. "Is it me," Jen finally said, "or did you threaten to out him as Iron Man?"

"Not in so many words," Olivia answered with a sigh. She smiled grimly, "He's not going to trust us until we prove ourselves... this will give us the breathing room to do so."

Jen slid a arm over Olivia's shoulders and hugged her gently as she murmured in her ear, "I'm proud of you."

There was a tentative tapping on the door. "Yes?" Olivia called.

Connie looked faintly pained, "Security reports that Stark covertly released some kind of techno probes before he left. They're rounding them up now."

"Well, snoopy isn't he?" Jen commented grimly. "Do you have payback in mind?"

Olivia looked mildly cross, "I think I can come up with something creative."

Meanwhile, the heroine called Warbird descended from the sky, her black and gold uniform hugging her body. She landed beside the new headquarters at Stane and waited for the ID scans to finish before heading inside.

"Damn him," Warbird scowled, walking into the meeting room and sitting down as she tried to digest what she had learned.

The Avengers had reformed... without her. During a prison break on the Raft, a high tech prison off shore from Manhattan Island a group of rag tag heroes had responded to the crisis. Forming up around Captain America and Iron Man they had successfully contained about half the inmates, and in the aftermath Cap had offered them membership in the Avengers.

'Jessica was so happy too,' Carol thought grimly, 'her boyfriend Luke Cage is going to be a Avenger, along with Spider-Man and Spider Woman. I wonder if she even realized how stunned I was to hear that?'

Losing the Avengers had hurt Carol in ways that she was still feeling, and knowing that the Avengers had been reformed and no one offered her membership was a bitter pill to swallow. Intellectually she understood that the new team had come together in the spur of the moment, but it still rankled to know she, a experienced hero and long time Avenger, had been passed over.

'And now this,' Carol thought, walking over to the fridge. Earlier that day Tony Stark appeared at her work, taking her out to breakfast even as he smiled charmingly to her coworkers. Over food he had explained his concerns over the team that Olivia was forming, and pretty much asked her to be his spy.

A bottle of beer glistened in the light, waiting there cold in the fridge. Carol reached for it, a finger trailing over the slick surface, tempted to drink like she hadn't been in weeks. Then she firmly made herself grab a soda, shutting the door and walking over to a love seat where she sat back with a tired sigh.

'Yes, I don't entirely trust Olivia,' Carol mentally conceded as she drank the soda, 'but I'm not going to be his pet spy, either. It would destroy any trust between me and my teammates.'

There was a soft sound as someone came up the stairs, then Thunderstrike emerged. The black haired woman in armor looked tired and hot from the sun, but her smile was warm as she saw Carol sitting there. "Good to see you," she said as she got out a bottle of water.

"You too," Carol admitted, feeling a slight smile tugging at her lips. "You look pretty tired," she noted.

Jackie Lukas smiled wryly as she sat down across from Carol, "Oh, I am. I just spent half the day flying in a grid pattern over the city."

Carol blinked, "Why would you do that?"

Jackie rested her head on the back of the chair, "We were thinking that my mace might respond to the magic that powers the Wrecking Crew... maybe help us find them."

Carol shook her head, "Not a bad theory, but you shouldn't have gone out alone. What if you did find them and they got the upper hand?"

"Worried about me?" Jackie asked, smiling wryly.

Carol felt a odd flutter in her heart, but made herself ignore the pleasurable sensation. "Of course," she replied, "we're friends."

"Thanks," Jackie flashed a warm smile. She looked at Carol questioningly, "You look a little down... is there anything I can do?"

Without really intending to Carol expressed her frustration at being excluded from the Avengers though she only skimmed over her earlier meeting with Stark. "I suppose what really annoys me is that they couldn't even bother to call," she admitted, "I had to hear about this from my friend Jennifer."

Jackie reached out to pat her hand, "To be honest I'm glad they didn't call."

Carol blinked, "Eh?"

Jackie smiled slightly, "We'd be in a lot of trouble if we lost you to the Avengers."

Carol felt herself blush, "I'm sure you'd manage."

"Maybe," Jackie stretched out tiredly, "but I don't want to find out."

To be continued...


	14. Chapter 14

Avengers Wreckage

"Damn it," the Wrecker growled as he lounged in their hide out, his purple hood sitting in his lap as the green suited criminal ate a sandwich, "when can we get out of here?!"

"Calm down," Thunderball said grimly, the black man in yellow and green looking out the flop house window, "we have to stay undercover, for now. When Amora needs us, she'll call."

"I'm with Wrecker," Bulldozer sighed, his silver armored head reflecting the lamp light, "I'm going stir crazy here."

Piledriver nodded, "We gotta get out of here, man!"

"And do what, go directly to jail?" Thunderball pointed out. "I'd rather be cooped up here than locked up."

"Aww, shuddup," Wrecker scowled.

Ever since their jewelry heist had been foiled by Warbird and Thunderstrike, the Wrecking Crew had been holed up in this safehouse, bored out of their minds. All four were wanted men, so wandering around outside was out, and there was only so long you could play videogames and watch tv.

"I've HAD IT!" Piledriver suddenly burst out, leaping to his feet then jumping right through the open window.

"Oh hell," Thunderball cursed.

"After him!" Wrecker yelled as they raced off after their teammate, all three emerging on the street as car horns honked and people cried out in surprise.

"Ah, LA," Bulldozer smiled, "no other city like it."

Not long after, Amora the Enchantress looked at her fixer and assistant with a pained expression. "You're joking," the gorgeous blonde said flatly, wearing a fine business suit as she lounged on her throne.

"Sorry," Morgan Stark sighed as the more shabbily dressed black haired man reported, "it seems the Crew have flown the coop. I've got people monitoring them, and so far they're keeping a low profile."

Amora looked like she had a headache, "Trust me, it won't last." She looked grim, "Any contact numbers they have for me I want erased, understood? Make sure there are no connections between me and them."

Morgan looked a bit surprised, "You're cutting them loose?"

"They cut themselves loose," Amora answered, "I just want to make sure they don't drag me down with them."

"And your headquarters?" Morgan asked, looking pointedly at the stage decorated up like a throne room.

Amora sighed with annoyance, "Break it all down, we'll move to site b." Standing up she addressed the young men watching her worshipfully, "Return to your homes, gentlemen. When you do, I command you to forget you ever met me."

As the men shuffled out like sleepwalkers Morgan looked at his employer curiously, "You're just letting them go?"

"They no longer interest me," Amora shrugged. A faint smile tugged at her lips, "You could say I have a new interest, now."

"Of course," Morgan said as they went out into the sunlight.

Amora climbed into her car as she said, "Keep me updated on the Wrecking Crew, if Force Works stops them I want battle footage."

"Yes, ma'am," Morgan agreed as she drove off. Frowning to himself he consulted his personal organizer, "The Crew know too much about me... I think I'd best take steps." Dialing a number he smiled, "Hello, Delilah? I have a little job for you."

Across the city in the Stane Enterprises base of Force Works, Connie Leeds drank her coffee as the brown haired woman sat in front of the team's monitor center. On the screen in front of her data scrolled by, including police reports, superhero fan blogs and other sources of up to date information.

Warbird walked in, the black clad blonde looking at the screen curiously as she asked, "Anything interesting?"

"Some," Connie admitted, "but nothing I think we need to handle yet."

"Like?" Warbird pressed.

"The teen heroes called Runaways are still operating around LA," Connie noted, "as are their rivals, the Loners. According to the police there's some rumors of renewed trade in MGH, but nothing confirmed yet."

"MGH?" Warbird had to ask.

Connie smiled slightly, "Mutant Growth Hormone. It can trigger temporary powers in people, but they can be very unstable."

"Let me guess, it causes a high too?" Warbird offered.

"It's the latest kick," Connie agreed, "right along side ecstasy and other party drugs."

"Lovely, deranged kids with superpowers," Warbird grimaced, walking over and pouring herself a coffee.

"Warbird, can I ask you something?" Connie turned in her chair to face the other woman. "Do you like Thunderstrike?"

Warbird jerked, nearly spilling her cup of coffee. "Of course I like her," she said uneasily.

"No," Connie looked at Warbird intently, "do you LIKE Thunderstrike?"

A blush colored Warbird's cheeks as she put her cup down on the meeting table, "Why are you asking me that?"

Connie met her eyes frankly, "Because I think if I got to know her, I could like Thunderstrike that way." She smiled grimly, "And you sure seemed to develop a strong dislike of me when I flirted with her."

Warbird looked away, feeling suddenly uncomfortable as she said, "I'm sorry."

"I'm not trying to be mean," Connie said a bit more gently, "I guess I just want to know where I stand."

Warbird puffed out a breath as she sat down, staring down into her coffee cup. "I really don't know how to answer you," she conceded after a moment, "I've never been attracted to another woman before."

"But you are now?" Connie led. Before Warbird could answer the monitor screen shifted from a cool blue to a flashing red, and with a muffled curse Connie turned to check it out.

"What's going on?" Warbird demanded as her eyes swept the still unfamiliar symbols and codes for the LA police department.

"Superhuman incident," Connie reported, "conflict involving a unknown superhuman and the Wrecking Crew, near the bad side of town."

"They've finally reappeared," Warbird frowned as she asked, "can you contact War Machine and Thunderstrike?"

"Already on it," Connie said.

Warbird hurried to the door, "Tell them I'm on my way there, Connie."

"Are you sure you shouldn't wait?" Connie looked at her worriedly, "the Wrecking Crew out powers you, you know."

"I'm just going to check things out," Warbird promised, "I'll wait till reinforcement arrive before acting."

"I hope you mean that," Connie said as she turned back to the monitor board.

With that Warbird raced out of the building and flew skyward, her long blonde hair flowing in the breeze as the black, gold and red clad heroine soared from the industrial heart of California to the lights of LA. The sounds of alarms and sirens brought her to her goal, and she settled down on a building to watch in surprise.

A woman dressed in purple stood in the rubble, surrounded by burning cars and the battered bodies of all four members of the Wrecking Crew. A tall, cool looking blonde she coldly hoisted up Piledriver as she said, "You four caused me a lot of trouble."

Warbird winced slightly at the sound of the blow as she watched from cover. She couldn't guess how strong the stranger was, but she was clearly strong or tough enough to defeat four Asgardian powered beings. In fact, Warbird was seriously wondering if the woman intended to kill the four of them...

'Not that part of me would mind that,' Warbird admitted to herself as she drew her camera out and snapped a few shots, 'but heroes aren't supposed to do that kind of thing.' Tucking it away again she saw the lady readying to deliver another blow to her helpless foe, and couldn't bring herself to wait any more.

"You should have just obeyed orders," the woman sneered to the groaning man she held so easily, "now you die."

"Hold it right there!" Warbird declared boldly, standing to make the maximum impression in the afternoon light.

"You've got to be kidding me," the woman muttered as she dropped him, "hey hero, this doesn't concern you."

"It does if you're going to kill them," Warbird answered as she let herself float, building the energy up inside of her.

"Of course I'm going to kill them," she laughed and cheerfully added, "how else do I make my rep in this town?"

Like a bullet Warbird launched herself at her, then was stunned as she was slapped from the air with a powerful blow. 'Okay,' Warbird shook herself as she rose to face her enemy, 'she's stronger than I thought.'

"The name's Delilah," she smiled cheerfully as she advanced on Warbird, "and I'm gonna make you regret you ever met me."

To be continued...


	15. Chapter 15

Avengers Wreckage

Jackie Lukas sat at the café table, the black haired woman drinking a overpriced coffee as she read through the architectural trade magazine. Two earlier issues sat beside her as she worked to finish the last one, her eyes flickering across the paper. The café near the Beverly Malibu was less pretentious than most of the breed, with surly servers and no overpriced elegance to their brew. It was good coffee sold quickly, enough of a rarity to draw customers.

"Is this seat taken?" a voice asked warmly.

Looking up Jackie met striking blue eyes as the blonde rested a hand on the wooden seat, dressed in a simple set of shorts and t-shirt. Jackie felt her mind kick over as she said questioningly, "Amy, was it?"

Amy Ray smiled back as she casually sat, her full breasts bouncing a bit in the skimpy cloth covering as she said, "You remembered."

"Hard to forget," Jackie smiled as she remembered the other woman losing control of a basket of clothes and falling on her.

Amy winked, "Thank you." She waved a server down and ordered a double double and the boy nodded, soon returning with a large coffee with two cream and sugar.

"You have a way with the staff," Jackie noted wryly, "usually I have to wait for service."

Amy leaned forward as she studied Jackie for a moment before noting warmly, "They must be blind, then."

Jackie blushed a bit, "I wouldn't go that far..."

Noting that the other woman looked uncomfortable, Amy reached out to pat her hand. "Sorry if I was a bit forward," she said gently.

Jackie smiled back, "It's been awhile since I've had anyone pay attention to me like that. It's nice, just a bit odd feeling too."

Amy studied her a moment, "I'd suggest you get used to it," she offered, "you have a... unsullied quality you rarely see in LA."

"You're the second person to say that," Jackie confessed. She was about to say more when a beeping noise cut them both off.

"What is that?" Amy winced in distaste.

"Sorry," Jackie got out her beeper, her eyes widening as she saw the emergency code scrawling across the screen. She got up, stuffing her magazines in her large shoulder bag as she said apologetically, "Something's come up, I got to go."

Amy concealed a flash of irritation as she said, "It's all right, I understand. Maybe I can catch you later?"

"I'd like that," Jackie said as she flashed her a smile and hurried off, soon disappearing down a alley nearby.

Amy, known also as Amora the Enchantress, sat back as she finished her coffee. 'I wonder if it's those wrecking idiots?' she mused, 'If so, I hope they regret breaking cover.'

Jackie hurried down the alley then ducked into a alcove as she pulled out her cellphone and speed dialed headquarters. "Connie," she asked, "what's going on?"

"Warbird's headed downtown to investigate a sighting of the Wrecking Crew," Connie reported seriously, "she could use backup."

"Damn," Jackie muttered, "I'm on my way."

Hanging up Jackie drew her battered mace from her bag, raising it up before thumping the handle to the groung. In a flare of lightning and a roll of thunder Jackie was garbed in her Asgardian styled armor as Thunderstrike. Spinning her mace by the chained handle she threw it into the sky, letting it yank her into the air.

Soaring above the city Thunderstrike soon saw a curl of smoke from one of the streets, homing in as she heard sirens and shouts of alarm. Descending she was shocked to see the Wrecking crew stacked up life firewood, the unconscious men's uniforms battered and torn. A nearby building rumbled ominously, then in a explosion of force a familiar figure in black and gold was hurled outward fling towards Thunderstrike.

"Warbird!" Thunderstrike yelped as she swiftly moved to slow her down and ease her fall. Once she got a look at her friend she stiffened in shock, seeing the blood and bruises on a woman she had thought was invulnerable.

"T-strike?" Warbird managed weakly. "She's strong," she hissed painfully, "real strong. Be careful..." she warned before collapsing unconscious.

Striding out of the ruble a tall blonde with a cruel expression appeared, dressed in purple body armor that covered her from neck to toe. "Another one?" she asked, "I thought LA didn't have very many heroes."

Thunderstrike eased Warbird to the ground then rose, her expression cold. "You're the one who did this?" she demanded.

"Name's Delilah," the blonde said casually as she swept some dust off her arm with her hand, "your friend there got in the way of my job. I'd advise you not to do the same."

Thunderstrike clutched her mace so hard her knuckles were white, "Not going to happen. Surrender now or..."

Delilah sighed, "Your funeral."

With a speed that could almost be described as inhuman Delilah attacked, rushing up to Thunderstrike faster than you could blink. The first blow sent Thunderstrike reeling backwards, but she shrugged it off enough to block the next.

"Not bad," Delilah actually sounded impressed as she kicked Thunderstrike in the stomach, doubling her over for a easy blow to the head.

Thunderstrike staggered but jerked to the side, dodging another strike as she cleared her head. 'She's as strong as I am,' she realized as she braced herself, 'I guess I can't hold back.'

"You're doing better than your little friend," Delilah purred as she circled, "by now I had made her my bitch."

'And I don't want to hold back,' Thunderstrike added grimly.

As Delilah swung at Thunderstrike again she used her mace, bringing up the weapon fast to parry her blow with all her strength. There was a boom as hammer hit fist, then a moment as immense forces pressed against each other, warring for dominance. Then Delilah cried out as the bones in her hand broke, the mace's power overwhelming even her strength.

"Aahh!" Delilah clutched at her wrist as she staggered backward. "Damn," she gasped as her shattered hand hung limp and useless, "for something that looks like it's made of scrap iron that mace can hit."

Thunderstrike almost felt ill looking at that mangled paw but she made herself meet Delilah's gaze, "Give up and we'll get you to a doctor."

"Are you kidding?" Delilah actually laughed as she grinned, "It's just getting good."

'Oh hell,' Thunderstrike braced herself for another attack...

BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM!

The machine gun fire rained down around Delilah, forcing her back as a filtered voice boomed, "This is War Machine. Surrender now or suffer the consequences."

'About time,' Thunderstrike thought.

Delila looked up at the armored figure hovering above them, sheathed in grey metal and with several weapons systems pointed at her. "Wait your turn," Delilah growled.

Another shot pinged off Delilah's armored shoulder as War Machine said, "Not happening."

"Damn it," Delilah scowled as she twisted her uninjured wrist, a small compartment opening in her arm to drop spheres into her hand.

"Look...," Thunderstrike started to yell a warning but Delilah was fasted than that, tossing the balls on the ground and unleashing a nova-burst of pure white light. She was blinded for a few moments and blinking away spots as large as houses after that, leaving no chance to chase after the armored lady.

"Damn," War Machine flew back as Thunderstrike was carefully picking up Warbird, "she had some kind of cloaking system on her armor, I couldn't find her after the spots went away,"

"Never mind that," Thunderstrike said as she carefully hefted Warbird in her arms, "she needs medical attention."

War Machine raised a gauntlet and offered, "Let me scan her first and find out how bad it really is." As Thunderstrike nodded the suit's sensors swept over Warbird as she murmured, "Concussion, serious bruising along back and torso, no broken bones..."

"You can tell all that?" Thunderstrike sounded impressed.

"Soft tisue scanner," War Machine explained. She held out her arms, "Let me take her. We have a fully equipped medical bay back at Stane Enterprises."

'My flying method won't work well for a wounded woman,' Thunderstrike conceded as she passed Warbird over.

"The police should be on their way for the Wrecking Crew," War Machine said as she carefully balanced Warbird in her arms, "can you keep an eye on them till the police arrive?"

Thunderstrike gritted her teeth but nodded as she answered grimly, "Okay, but I'm coming after you right away."

"I wouldn't expect anything else," War Machine answered as she took off on her boot jets.

'Take good care of her,' Thunderstrike thought as War Machine vanished into the distance, then with great reluctance stomped over to where the Wrecking Crew lay. "Idiots," she muttered as she settled down to wait.

To be continued...


	16. Chapter 16

Avengers Wreckage

Officer Sean O'Connel smiled as the redhead surpervised a team of cops loading the stunned figures of the Wrecking Crew into a armored paddy wagon. "So you're Thunderstrike," she murmured, "have we met before?"

'I met you as Jackie Lukas,' she thought wryly. "No, I don't think so," she answered, glad the transformation made her voice and general look change quite a bit.

Sean sighed, "Maybe you just have that kind of face....."

Eager to change the subject Thunderstrike nodded towards the Wrecker, "Do you have the facilities to hold someone like him?"

Sean shrugged, "We have some gear provided by Stark Enterprises, supposedly it'll hold someone up to the Hulk's strength."

"Supposedly?" Thunderstrike raised her eyebrow.

"I think we're the testers for the invention," Sean conceded.

Thunderstrike nodded sympathetically, "I'll ask my teammates to keep a ear open on the emergency band, just in case."

"We'll appreciate it," Sean nodded. She smiled, "Well, I have your statement so you're free to go."

"Thank you," Thunderstrike turned to go.

"I'm just worried about that Delilah woman," Sean called as Thunderstrike began to spin her mace, "the stories from New York say she was a hitter for the mob!"

"We're not done," Thunderstrike agreed as she hurled her mace, grabbed the attached chain and was yanked up into the blue sky.

"I hope you mean that," Sean murmured as she watched Thunderstrike disappear into the distance, "because from what I've heard about her she doesn't back off from a fight until it's over and one of you is dead."

Meanwhile, back at Stane Industries the medical center was getting it's first full workout. Gleaming lights shone as Warbird lay on the padded table, exotic monitors scanning her near invulnerable form as holographic displays popped up around her. The black and gold clad heroine groaned and twisted a bit on the table, even with the low level force fields that should have been holding her still.

"Is she going to be all right?" Jennifer Swensen finally demanded, still dressed in the War Machine armor but her helm sitting on a counter nearby, her red hair blazing under the lights.

"Actually, I think she's going to be fine," Olivia Stane stepped back, the white-blonde haired woman shaking her head in wonder. "Her body seems to heal at a incredible rate," she noted, "in fact, the only real trouble was when you had to realign her broken finger. It might have healed crooked otherwise."

"Damn," Jennifer shook her head in admiration, "any way we can get a ability like that?"

"No," Olivia smiled slightly, "not unless you want to submit to months if not possibly years of genetic treatments...."

Jennifer made a face, "No thanks."

"I can hear you," Warbird grumbled as she opened her blue eyes, the blonde sitting up with a soft groan.

Olivia put her hand on Warbird's arm, "You need to rest, you're still healing."

"Is that woman still...?" Warbird growled, wincing in pain as she tried to get off the table.

"She's gone," Jennifer told her seriously, "Thunderstrike and I drove her off."

Warbird sat on the side of the table, her breath a bit ragged from pain. "Damn, I wanted a rematch," she admitted.

"After that beating?" Olivia looked startled.

Warbird looked grim, "I hadn't realized how strong she was right off the bat." A slightly annoyed smile teased her lips as she confessed, "I didn't hit her at full strength to start with...."

"And she was a lot stronger than you expected," Jennifer nodded.

Connie stuck her head in the door as the brown haired woman in casual business wear said, "The Wrecking Crew is in police custody and Thunderstrike is on her way back."

"Any sign of that woman Delilah?" Warbird had to ask.

"Disappeared," Connie admitted, "no reports on police frequencies and my taps on security systems are coming up zilch."

There was a sound of running feet then Thunderstrike hurried around the corner, her worried expression almost instantly easing as she saw Warbird up and around. Walking in a bit more slowly she asked, "Are you all right?"

"A little banged up," Warbird smiled, "but otherwise fine."

Thunderstrike reached her side and gently took Warbird's hand as she smiled back. "I'm glad," she said, "I was pretty worried when War Machine carried you off."

"Sorry I scared you," Warbird said softly.

Connie watched the two women with a faintly pained smile then excused herself, heading back to the communications's station. 'Those two,' she shook her head wryly, 'I wonder if they even realize how obvious they're being about their emotions.'

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Amora the Enchantress scowled as she watched the footage of Delilah's battle with the Force Works team in her scrying pool. "You little fool," she growled out, "why didn't you wait for some of our back-up to arrive?"

Morgan Stark frowned as he watched too. "I'm sorry, ma'am," he said humbly, "I thought the break out of the Wrecking Crew needed to be dealt with quickly."

Amora sighed, "If she had just retrieved them there would be no problem, but she was too damn enthusiastic."

"She's reported in from one of our local safehouses," Morgan said as he checked his personal organizer, "according to this she intends to remain under cover until her next mission."

"Thank goodness for that," Amora noted wryly. "How are her injuries?"

"Broken hand," Morgan calmly reported, "with her physiology she should be fixed up in just a day or two."

"Good," Amora nodded. She got up off her throne like chair in the beautifully decorated throne room as she briskly asked, "What sort of danger are we in from the Wrecking Crew?"

Having clearly given this some thought Morgan promptly answered, "They don't know the location of this hideout, but they do know you're in charge." He hesitated then nervously said, "They also know I'm involved, which may be somewhat more of a problem."

"You're exposed?" Amora actually sounded amused.

Morgan sighed as he reminded her, "Yes, ma'am. I had to meet Thunderball in person to get the group to sign on with you..."

Amora stopped, her expression thoughtful. "They likely have your name and description?" she asked him.

"Of course," Morgan looked at her in confusion.

"Easily solved," Amora smirked as she snapped her fingers.

Morgan barely managed a choked off cry as magical power washed over him, engulfing his body in a pink perfumed cloud. Coughing and gasping Morgan emerged from the cloud with much longer brown hair, not to mention a few... other changed.

"What the hell?!" Morgan yelped in a distinctly female voice.

"You were worried that the Wrecking Crew could identify you to the police," Amora said with a dangerous smirk, "this should solve that problem."

"It's not that simple, you know," Morgan said, her now triangular face free of mustache and stubble.

Amora rolled her eyes, "Morgan, it's really not that hard. Take a handful of gold and buy a good hacker and forger to fix the records and you'll be all set."

Morgan stammered, "But...."

A dangerous spark shone in Amora's eyes as she added, "Or if you like I can solve the problem for good."

"It's fine," Morgan quickly blurted, "just fine, ma'am."

"Oh, good," Amora smiled slightly as she sauntered to the door. "Keep an eye on things," she ordered as she left, "I have business to attend to."

Morgan watched her go then put her head in her hands and groaned, "I knew I should have just been an accountant."

Several of Amora's general lacky boys looked on before one tentatively cleared his throat. "Ah, sir? Or ma'am?"

"What?" Morgan looked up tiredly.

"Ah, your new hips aren't holding up your clothes too well," he offered shyly.

"Ack!" Morgan grabbed her now oversized pants before they could slip down any more. "Someone grab me some sweatpants and a T-shirt?" she asked plaintively, wishing Amora had just transformed her business suit too.

To be continued....


	17. Chapter 17

Avengers: Wreckage

Interlude

Avenger's Tower, as it was unofficially called, rose high above New York City, a gleaming three sided struckture built from state of the art technology. The upper floors were dedicated to the use of the superteam called the Avengers, often considered the world's mightiest heroes. Founded by Iron Man, Thor, Hulk, Ant Man and the Wasp the team had been through many incarnations, the most recent formed after the near destruction of the team by a former friend.

Tony Stark paused the recording as the new War Machine, Thunderstrike and Warbird rounded up a group of criminals calling themselves Outlaws, all dressed in outlandish costumes. The brown haired man was serious as he addressed the others in the room, "Ladies and gentlemen, this is Force Works."

Captain America frowned, his armored cowl pushed back as Steve Rogers sipped his cup of coffee. "And they're being organized by a rival company?" he asked, blue eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Stane," Tony nodded, "they're a up and comming electronics company in California, based in silicon valley. They're not as cutting edge as Stark, but they're no slouches either. They're run by Olivia Stane, a woman who's family and I have... had issues, let's say."

Jessica Drew catwalked in, the slim black haired woman drawing men's eyes without even trying. "Who are we dealing with?" she asked as she sat down.

"That's Warbird," Steve Rogers noted a bit disapprovingly, "is it still Carol in the costume?"

"Yup," Luke Cage said, the bald black man sitting nearby. He smiled, his expression unusually friendly as he added, "She called my wife Jess before she signed on, checking out Ms. Stane."

"And that looks a bit like a female Thor," Spider-man noted, the younger man crouched comfortably on the chair. Peter Parker tended to be restless in costume, moving about and often jumping into conversations with off-hand comments.

"I recognize the weapon she's carrying," Steve noted a bit sadly, "Thunderstrike's mace."

"He was a Avenger, right?" Jessica asked.

"Off and on," Steve agreed, "he replaced Thor for a bit, but ultimately died in action. We assumed his mace was destroyed in the battle...."

"Don't assume, it makes a ass of u and me," Spider-man murmured.

Logan chuckled softly, the mutant hero Wolverine lounging in a chair nearby. "No one stays dead in this business," he remarked, his black hair swept back from his face in his distinctive style, "trust me, I know."

"And that's a War Machine," Tony said flatly, "while it resembles my technology long distance scans and other data I've acquired confirm that it's not my equipment."

"So just three members?" Luke raised his eyebrows.

"All of which outpower about half our current team," Steve noted dryly.

"Other than the Sentry and Iron Man," Jessica conceded. She looked at Tony and asked, "Do you think they're a threat, then?"

Tony hesitated, looking rather torn on the idea. "To be honest, I'm not sure," he admitted finally.

"That's not like you," Steve noted mildly.

"As you know," Tony smiled grimly, "I have a predisposition towards distrusting Miss Stane. To be frank, her father tried to destroy me, murdered a friend and tried to kill me, all of which left a bad taste in my mouth."

"But?" Luke had to ask.

"I've dug very deeply into Olivia's background," Tony sounded frustrated as he said, "and to the best of my knowledge she's clean as a whistle."

"Too clean?" Logan offered thoughtfully.

"Do you want me to do some digging through SHIELD?" Jessica asked. As a semi-active agent she had more access than the Avengers might usually get, not to mention all sorts of unusual contacts from her world travelling days.

Tony gave a slight smile, "Yes, please. But keep it covert if you can."

"Of course," Jessica agreed.

"I'll put out some feelers too," Logan nodded.

"Is there any chance of her turning Carol somehow?" Tony had to ask.

Logan made a disbelieving snort, "No way in hell."

Steve nodded, "I have to agree with Logan, I really doubt she'd do anything against her will." He hesitated, "But she might be mislead."

Tony sighed quietly, "I approached her in LA recently, but I think I fumbled it. I was so surprised by her allying with Stane that I all but asked Carol to spy on her."

Logan shook his head, "That wouldn't have gone over well."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

She arrived by train, the brown haired woman sitting oddly aloof. She wore her brown hair short, almost boyishly so, and instead of regular street clothes she had on a simple one piece leotard, made of some kind of light weight yet durable material. She looked around the train station, eyes narrowed, until she saw the man holding a sign reading 'Dr. Trainer.'

"Dr. Carolyn Trainer?" the man asked formally, his golden blonde hair falling around his face.

Carolyn nodded crisply, "Thank you. Will you be escorting me to see Morgan?"

A odd smile twitched on his lips a moment, then was gone. "Morgan's waiting in the car," he said as he lead her out of the station.

"Did my equipment get shipped as well?" Carolyn demanded briskly.

"As medical supplies," he informed her calmly, "they should be at the safe house as we speak."

"Good," Carolyn nodded as they emerged from the station and crossed to the waiting limo. It shone black, glinting in the sun and symbolizing everything right and wrong with the lifestyle of the city.

"Welcome to LA," the brown haired woman smiled wryly sitting, in the back seat with her legs crossed and leaning back in a relaxed way.

"Who...?" Carolyn looked at her, then blinked as she noticed a odd familiarity about the strange woman.

She sighed, "It's me, Morgan."

"Morgan?" Carolyn blinked as she climbed in, "Morgan Stark? But HOW...?"

Morgan Stark sighed, adjusting the skirt that still felt strange for her. "Magic," she saigh with a annoyed snort, "the heat was on and I needed a new face."

"It certainly is that," Carolyn looked amused. She sat back with a sigh as the pretty boy got in the driver's seat and they took off. "So why did I have to take the long way around to get here?" she asked as the city's outskirts whizzed by.

"You're not wanted due to some powerful lawyers," Morgan noted dryly, "but that doesn't mean the police aren't keeping an eye on you. You'd be very easily tracked by plane, but trains are still not monitored that closely."

Carolyn didn't look happy, but she nodded, "Point taken. Is the rest of the team assembled?"

"We're working on it now," Morgan said respectfully, "they should all arrive fairly soon."

"And you think we'll be needed to deal with just three superhumans?" Carolyn had to ask as they pulled up in front of a nice condominium.

Morgan shrugged as the pretty boy opened the door, "Best be prepared, no?" She offered the keys, "Room one, your equipment is there. Please don't do anything too showy yet, please."

"Of course," Carolyn took the keys, wayching as the pretty driver got back inside, the limo smothly taking off. Turning she walked to the building, going up to the driveway and reaching the two doors of the split condo. She unlocked the door, walking to the living room where a crate waited to be opened.

Carolyn gestured, her brow furrowing in concentration, then the box seemed to explode as metal arms extended outward. The silvery tentacles acted like tegs for the central unit, walking across the floor to where Carolyn waited. Gracefully the center unit wrapped itself around her waist and Carolyn smiled, caressing the steel sensuously.

"I'm glad you're back, babies," Carolyn murmured to herself, "we're going to have such fun together."

To be continued!

Notes: Carolyn Trainer was introduced in the Spider-man books years back, temporarily becoming Doctor Octopus when the original was killed. After the original Doc Ock came back she dropped into obscurity, which always seemed to me a waste of a perfectly good character. The last time I saw her was in Bendis' Secret War mini-series, I think.

I'm tempted to play up her rather creepy fixation on Doc Ock and transfer it to her mechanical arms. *lol* Depends on how creepy I want her to get....


	18. Chapter 18

Avengers: Wreckage

The Force Works meeting room hummed with life as Connie Leeds carried a urn of coffee in, her brown hair pulled back from her face. "How are you feeling?" she asked as she poured.

"Like a truck ran over me," Carol Danvers admitted as the blond added sweeteners to her cup than took a sip. "But other than being sore I'm fine," she added.

"I'm glad," Jackie Lucas smiled, her long black hair falling into her eyes. She was wearing casual clothes, a simple t-shirt and jeans that hugged her shapely body.

'Damn is she cute,' Connie found herself noting. She had been attracted to the other woman almost as soon as she met her, and the more she learned about her sweet personality the stronger the interest grew. 'Too bad she's so oblivious,' she thought.

"Take it easy," Olivia Stane ordered Carol from where she sat at the table, cradling her own cup in her hands. "You may feel recovered," the white haired young woman pointed out, "but your body's just been through a stressful experience."

"Yes mother," Carol rolled her eyes.

Jennifer Swensen snorted in amusement. "I don't think anyone's called her that before," she said with a laugh.

Olivia smirked, "Other than in a 'oh momma!' kind of way."

"Bad mental image," Jackie laughed.

"Meanie," Olivia grinned.

Carol fought back a grin of her own, surprised at how comfortable she felt here. There was a easy sense of comradery between the women, a trust that had gradually developed. 'I wonder when I stopped distrusting Olivia?' she wondered.

Connie was also hiding a smile as she sat down. "May Scott told me she caught two reporters trying to sneak onto the property," she reported, "we think they were headed here."

"Are we sure they're real reporters?" Olivia asked as she mused, "It would make a good cover for industrial espionage."

"The information on them checks out," Connie shrugged then tossed a look at Carol. "In fact, they work for the Herald."

"You're kidding," Carol blinked.

"Nope," Connie checked a file, "a Mr. Chad Smith and Mrs. Monica Stewart. They bluffed a gate guard but were caught on passive sensors as they went for this building. We've got them in a secure lockup until the police arrive."

"Calling the cops in might be a bit excessive," Olivia mused. She looked at Carol, "Is this going to bite us on the ass?"

"Chad is not a very nice man," Carol admitted, "but Monica is pretty nice. Or at least I thought she was." She looked thoughtful, "Maybe just let them go with a warning, this time?"

"How about we have May cut them loose," Olivia offered, "with a warning that if they trespass again the cops will be called."

"Thanks," Carol sighed. She got up with a groan, "I'd better check in with work, too. I emailed a story after I got beaten, but I should follow up."

"You want a ride or...?" Jennifer asked politely.

"No," Carol shook her head, "I can Warbird my way back. It'd be faster too."

"Just watch yourself," Jackie cautioned as Carol walked away.

Meanwhile, May Scott smiled to herself as she walked to the detention level of the main building, her long black hair tied back in a pony tail. She wore a woman's business suit, with her pistol concealed in a underarm holster and looked remarkably neat and crisp, even in the afternoon heat.

"Lady and gentleman," May nodded as she opened the door of the meeting room they were storing their captives, "we're cutting you loose."

"I'm going to call my lawyer about this," Chad Smith huffed, slouching his a wrinkled, sweat stained suit.

"And we'll happily file criminal trespass charges if you want to do that," May answered cheerfully. "Now, if you'll follow me I'll escort you out."

"What are you people hiding?" Monica demanded, the redhead following close behind May.

"Don't dawdle, Mr Smith," May ordered him, "you wouldn't want to trigger our security features." As he caught up she looked at Monica, "Miss, we're a technology developer in a incredibly competitive business. A new design Blackberry, for example, could cost us millions if the design was stolen. We have to have good security."

Chad Smith snorted, "We got hit with a taser crossing the fields to the building on the west side. That seems a bit excessive."

"Not really," May smirked, "we could have used the vomit inducing gas, but it's so messy."

Monica gave the woman a suspicious look as they took the elevator up to street level. "You're messing with us, right?" she asked as the doors opened.

"I'll never tell," May said as she walked them out to the building to the main gate. "Shall I call you a taxi or...?" she asked politely.

"We'll be fine," Chad snarled as he stalked off, Monica following him out.

"Great plan, genius," Monica said dryly as they went a short ways up the road where they had left their car.

"Oh, shut up," Chad grumbled. "The boss wanted us to do some digging on Stane, and I figured visiting the company would be a good start."

Monica unlocked the door, waving Chad over to the passenger seat. "We could have taken the tour," she noted as they climbed in. "What do you think Stane is hiding? Or are they hiding anything?"

"Good question," Chad admitted. "What May said did make sense...."

Flooring the gas pedal Monica raced down the road, tires squealing as they headed back to town. "Still," she said with a slight frown, "that's pretty high security. Do you think it's because Force Works is based there?"

"You think they're hiding something about the team?" Chad wondered.

"Or just trying to maintain their privacy," Monica shrugged.

"Point," Chad slouched in the seat with a scowl.

Meanwhile, back at the Herald Carol Danvers dropped a story off with her editor, smiling grimly. "So," Ron looked at her thoughtfully, "this the first loss for Force Works?"

"Pretty much," Carol conceded. The Wrecking Crew had been captured, but the assassin Delilah had gotten away clean after beating her up.

"Any word on who hired the Wrecking Crew?" Ron asked.

"They won't talk to the police," Carol said, "at least according to my source. They seem willing to take the fall for their boss."

Ron raised his eyebrows, "Even after whoever it was tried to kill 'em?" Ron blinked.

"Could be they're too scared to testify, too," Carol admitted as she leaned up against the doorway. She ached all over but was doing her best not to let it show.

"Hmm," Ron nodded. He looked her over as he added, "You look pretty rough around the edges. Coming down with something?"

"Something like that," Carol said wryly.

Not long afterwards, both Chad and Monica staggered in, both looking worse than she did. "What happened?" Ron had to asked.

"Don't ask," Monica sighed.

To be continued....


	19. Chapter 19

Avengers: Wreckage

Chapter 19

As the afternoon sun blazed Warbird flew free, the blond haired woman twisting joyfully in the air high above LA. After her beating at the hands of Delilah she had been hampered, her body aching, but after a few days she had healed up fine. Even better she could actually feel her powers responding to the attack, building up defenses for the next battle.

Reluctantly the black and gold clad heroine straightened up and flew off towards Silicon Valley, eventually landing nearby the Stane Enterprises compound and walking towards the headquarters of Force Works. It was a squarish office building, at least on the outside, but the walls were armored and the interior set up like some kind of superhero club house.

"Warbird," May Scott's face appeared on a screen beside the door as the head of security noted, "you scan as fully recovered." The black haired woman smiled as she added, "I saw you when War Machine flew you in, so I'm glad to see you bounce back."

"Thanks," Warbird smiled. "Any more trouble from the reporters?" she asked. While Carol Danvers worked beside the two Herald reporters who had tried to sneak in, she hadn't been able to pump them for more information.

"Ah," May actually looked sheepish as she admitted, "Monica Stewart asked me to lunch, but other than that no."

Warbird laughed warmly as she cautioned her, "She's got a reputation for being fierce, but other than that you'll be fine."

"Gee thanks," May laughed as Warbird headed inside.

Warbird headed into the break room, where Jackie Lukas was reading the paper and sipping some orange juice. Jackie looked up with a amused smile as the brown haired woman complained, "If you're going to fight a army of mooks, do you want to at least invite me to join in?"

"They were C-Listers at best," Warbird waved it off with a laugh."They even had a guy in Frog Man armor," she told her.

"Frog Man?" Jackie looked at her in surprise. "There's actually a...."

"Yup," Warbird grabbed a coffee, "green suit of battle armor that lets him hop around. From what I remember, the guy who built it wanted to be a high rise thief."

"And most of the crooks were in battle armor?" Jacke looked thoughtful as she added, "Do you think it might be significant?"

Warbird sat down with her cup of coffee and took a sip. "That's... a very good question," she admitted thoughtfully.

"Maybe you should run it by Olivia?" Jackie suggested.

"Already sent her a report on the fight," Carol grinned, "there would be no way I'd be sitting here sipping coffee if I hadn't."

An alarm wailed and both jumped to their feet as tactical data came up on the view screen by the table. They brought up the police codes as they studied the data, Jackie blinked. "More c-listers." she noted, "but there's a lot of them."

"Call Jen," Carol said as they hurried out onto a launching platform Olivia had recently added, "then let's go!"

Jackie followed out a few seconds later, taking her mace and slamming it down to trigger her Thunderstrike form. The woman in Asgardian style armore reported, "Olivia says Jen is tied up. Apparently someone busted into a SHIELD facility and stole weapons and two Mandroids." She spun her mace and threw, grabbing onto the attached chain and letting it yank her into the sky as she asked, "What's a mandroid?"

Warbird smiled as she explained, "SHIELD's attempt to copy Irom Man, pretty much. They're bulky yellow suits of battle armor designed with flight, strength and various on board weapons."

The two women reached the city in a few minutes, flying at top speed, and they saw smoke billowing up from where a armored car had been attacked. Police fired from the safety of their cars but seemed unable to do much about the strange assortment of crooks who were unloading the van.

"Okay," Warbird quickly identified the players as they swept in, "the guy in the hard shelled green armor is the Beetle, the guy in the bear suit is Grizzly, the guy flying up there with green wings is wearing Vulture's gear and the black and purple guy with the bird emblem is Killer Strike."

"Is this a joke?" Thunderstrike shook her head as they landed, confronting the crooks. "Give up now and we won't hurt you!" she called to the crooks.

"I thought there weren't any supers in LA?!" Grizzly yelped.

Killer Strike gave him a look that nearly yelled, 'shut up.' He turned towards Warbird and Thunderstrike, his black cape swirling as he said, "We are the all new Force of Nature! Surrender or face our deadly wrath!"

Warbird gave Thunderstrike a slight smile, "Let's split them up evenly. I'll take Beetle and Vulture, you take Strike and Grizzly."

"That's fair," Thunderstrike grinned as she ran towards the two on the ground as Warbird rose to face the others in the air.

Grizzly faced her charge, the bear suit he was wearing pushing him up into the eight foot tall range. He swiped at Thunderstrike with a paw as he complained. "All I want to do is make one big score, then I'm putting the costume away! And I won't let you stop me."

Thunderstrike dodged by reflex, and it was lucky she did as claws hidden in the paw ripped into a lamp post. 'All right, not totally a joke,' she admitted as she stepped close then punched him hard, the uppercut rocking him backward.

Sparks flared from within the bear suit, the mechanisms having protected the wearer but also suffering damage. "Shit," Grizzly cursed as he back pedalled, looking over at Strike as he yelped, "Help me out, here!"

Killer Strike gestured, the heavy silver arm bands he wore glowing then he threw a bolt of plasma energy at Thunderstrike. He blinked in shock as she batted the energy bolt out of the air then fired off another as he huffed, "The Force of Nature is not so easily defeated!"

Thunderstrike slapped that bolt out of the way too as she thought, "I hope Warbird is having more fun with her two.'

Up above the city Warbird found herself feeling a bit of surprised admiration about the Beetle's armor. It wasn't all that powerful, yet the suit was still keeping ahead of her, if barely. Abandoning the chase she swept around, coming back to where the Vulture hovered above the battle.

"Oh no," the Vulture moaned weakly in fear, the brown haired young man grabbing at a weapon on his belt as she raced at him.

One shot whizzed by as Warbird reached him, then she swiftly slapped the gun out of his hands. Grabbing one arm she forced him to turn, grabbing at the hump on the back of his costume and tearing the power system free.

Suddenly dropping the Vulture screamed like a girl, "Help!"

Warbird let him drop for a few seconds then caught him, tearing off the flight mechanisms of his costume as she carried him to the cops. "Here you go," she said as she dropped him off with the police, "I'll be back with the other in a minute."

Seeing Warbird drop off Vulture, Thunderstrike decided to up her own game a bit. As Killer Strike fired off another bolt she swung her mace and bounced it right to the Grizzly, frying his suit electronics and sending him crashing to the concrete.

"Get this thing off me!" Grizzly squealed as the cops hosed him down with fire fighting foam as a precaution with the smoking suit.

"Shit!" Killer Strike yelped as he saw his only ground based ally fall. He turned and bolted with surprising speed down the street.

'Hitting him with the mace would kill him,' Thunderstrike thought as she took a few steps and leaped, her superstrong muscles throwing herself up high over him. She came down ahead as Killer Strike looked over his shoulder to see if he was being followed. Gracefully Thunderstrike moved into his path, he plowed right into her and knocked himself out.

Warbird closed the distance on the Beetle as she summoned up her energy powers, building up a charge around her hands. While she rarely used her ability to control raw energy she was still in practice, firing off a bolt of energy to make Beetle dodge to the right. Changing his course slowed Beetle enough that Warbird could catch up, grabbing hold of one boot.

"Give it up!" Warbird yelled loud enough to be heard over the rush of wind.

It seemed whoever was in the Beetle suit was smart enough to know they couldn't get away, slowing so that Warbird could get a better grip and guide the two of them down to the ground. Once they were down Warbird disconnected the helmet to see who was in the armor, only to see a unfamiliar looking face, a intense looking blonde woman with short hair.

"Donna Blake?" one of the cops blinked. "But you're a respected stunt woman. What are you doing this for?"

Donna gave him a withering look as she nodded to the busted armored car, "Money, what else?" She transferred her glare to the unconscious Killer Strike, "That idiot had the bright plan to hit a LA armored car, figuring there were no supers."

"Was he behind the attack earlier today?" Thunderstrike wondered.

"After he heard about your team he decided he needed a distraction," Donna sniffed as the cops lead her off, "guess it didn't work."

A older detective in a old business suit nodded as the police were carting off the crooks. "Officer Taylor," he introduced himself, "thanks for your help, folks. We woulda had casualties trying to take these mooks down."

"You're welcome," Carol smiled as the two heroines took off, "glad to help."

"What do you think?" Thunderstrike asked as they took off. "I noticed Beetle didn't mention the SHIELD raid at all."

"No, they didn't," Warbird agreed with a frown. "I wonder if both fights were just a distraction from a raid on SHIELD?" she asked.

"I hope Olivia knows more than we do," Thunderstrike sighed as they flew back to base.

To be continued....


	20. Chapter 20

Avengers: Wreckage

Chapter 20

Olivia Stane did know more, but sadly not as much as she would have liked. She called the team in for a briefing, the young woman looking surprisingly serious as she said, "It looks like we and the LA Police Department got played."

"The robberies and even the SHIELD raid were a distraction to hit a Stark lab?" Carol Danvers guessed, the blond woman sitting at the table with Thunderstrike and Jennifer Swensen.

"That's the opinion the police have," Olivia agreed, "in fact, there were four minor superhuman attacks that day, two here, one in the mid-west and one in New York, all of which drew the superheroes and cops attention."

Jennifer frowned as the red haired engineer noted, "That must have been a bitch to pull off."

"If they were shooting for the attacks to hit at the same time they failed," Olivia noted, "but they managed to pull them off within hours of each other."

Thunderstrike leaned forward, still in her heroic identity because she just returned to base after finishing her patrol. "Have the police gotten anything out of the guys we captured?" she asked.

"Not that they'll admit," Carol said, having talked to them in her other job as a newspaper reporter. "Apparently every costume involved was hired by a middle man, they never met the guy in charge," she said.

Olivia nodded, "I've been very generous to certain politicians this year, and I got a bit more information through political channels."

"You mean you bribed people," Jennifer noted disapprovingly.

"Whatever works," Olivia shrugged. She looked serious, "The guys doing the hiring are turning up dead, found in various cities."

"Someone's cleaning up loose ends," Thunderstrike guessed.

"One of them got smart and turned himself in," Olivia said, "but he hasn't much useful to say, either. Whoever hired him called themselves 'the Master Planner' and wore a hood and robe, so he couldn't tell much about him."

"Or her,"Carol offered, "could be a woman."

"Any idea what they stole?" Jennifer asked.

"The police don't know and SHIELD isn't saying," Olivia sounded disgusted.

"I've got some contacts from my days in intelligence," Carol offered, "I've already put the word out. Hopefully someone who owes me a favor can tell me."

"Thanks," Thunderstrike grinned.

"I'm not going to tell you what to do," Olivia said, "but I would suggest staying on high alert, in case the weapons do turn up."

"Agreed," Carol said. She got up, stretching, "Now, I have to go shake some trees and see if anyone I know locally can help."

Thunderstrike got up, looking a bit sheepish. "I just finished a architectural job, and a friend invited me out to celebrate," she said, "will that be a problem?"

"Can you leave your pager on?" Jennifer suggested.

"Will do," Thunderstrike agreed, then the black haired woman hurried out.

"Think it's a date?" Olivia asked, smiling impishly.

"Connie will be disappointed when she hears that," Jennifer noted, knowing how sweet the office worker was on Jackie.

"Don't tell her," Olivia suggested, "the last time she got upset the coffee suffered for weeks."

Carol snickered softly as she was getting a cold water from the fridge before she left, turning something over in her mind. 'Master Planner,' she mused, 'I'm sure I've heard it somewhere before.' A conversation came to mind and she sat up, "I got it!"

"Got what?" Jennifer asked curiously.

"I knew I heard of the Master Planner before," Carol explained, "he's a Spider-Man villain. A guy called Big Man was the first one, and the Green Goblin used the identity too."

"That's interesting," Olivia mused, looking thoughtful. "So there might be a Spider-Man connection to this, somewhere."

"Or it might just be someone else who's heard similar stories," Carol admitted.

"Either way, it's somewhere to start," Jennifer mused. She got up, "We'll see you later, then. Be careful and good luck on your search."

"You too," Carol said as she took the elevator to the roof then in a burst of almost invisible power soared off into the afternoon sun.

Meanwhile, in another part of the city Jackie Lukas had returned to her small apartment building, changing in a nearby alley from her Thunderstrike identity. She changed into casual but nice clothes, put on a bit of makeup and met her neighbor Amy Ray before the two headed out to celebrate her achievement.

Across town in a office complex emptied by the dot com crash, the underground server rooms were finding a new use. Dr. Carolyn Trainer smiled as she ran a hand through her newly dyed red hair, the beautiful woman dressed in a form fitting body suit of dark green. Her brown eyes were intent as she studied the crates that were piled up around the room, each bearing the insignia of SHIELD along with Stark Enterprises.

"If she finds out, we're going to be in deep shit," Morgan Stark said, the brown haired young woman standing nearby.

"Amora has been somewhat preoccupied lately," Carolyn noted mildly, "and while the cat's away, the mice will play." Much more briskly she asked her, "Have any of the men you hired figured out what's going on?"

"No," Morgan said seriously, "even the ones who dealt with you in person just saw the Master Planner." She frowned as she added, "Did you have to kill all the middlemen, too? It's going to make hiring anyone else harder."

Carolyn gave the woman a scornful look, "Use your brain, woman. Even if they didn't see my face they could still have enough information to be dangerous." She smiled slightly, "Besides, pawns in the game are meant to be sacrificed."

'They're not pawns they're people,' Morgan thought, but didn't say aloud. "Did you get what you wanted from the raid?" he asked.

"Yes," Carolyn smirked. "Stark may claim he's out of the weapons game, but his armored suit business more than makes up for it."

Morgan's eyes widened, "You got...?"

"Three Guardsman armors, bound for the Vault prison," Carolyn said, "along with repair materials which we could upgrade those Mandroids we stole, too."

"That's enough power to take over a small country," Morgan murmured.

"Tempting," Carolyn admitted, "but doing that would get the attention of people like the Avengers." She smiled, "No, I have a much better idea."

"Oh?" Morgan asked.

"Need to know," Carolyn told her, "besides, don't you need to be keeping an eye on your mistress's criminal empire?"

"Right," Morgan admitted, heading towards the elevator. She couldn't drop off the map too long, or her bodyguards would tell Amora. "We're partners, Carolyn," she said as she stepped in the box, "don't do anything without telling me."

"Of course," Carolyn smiled as she disappeared.

As the elevator rose Morgan bit her lip, feeling more than a bit of anxiety over this partnership. 'What do I do?' she thought, 'If Amora finds out I betrayed her, she'll kill me.' And, she knew, if she tried to turn on Carolyn she'd try to murder her, too.

Walking through the deserted building to the car waiting out front, Morgan decided all she could do was wait for the inevitable conflict to happen. If Carolyn won, her new loyalty to the woman would save her. If Amora won, Morgan would claim to have been infiltrating Carolyn's gang for her. It was thin, but it might just work...

In her underground lair, Carolyn smiled as she studied a image of Morgan being driven away. She could easily imagine what was going through the weasel's mind, but it didn't bother her. She knew exactly how loyal he was to her and just how far her could be counted on, and once he stopped being useful she'd have him killed.

Carolyn found it amusing, how often she was underestimated because she was a woman. Somehow people didn't expect her to mastermind plots like this, not to mention her willingness to kill if needed. A innocent face and a sweet smile, and the harshest judges didn't read her file close enough to realize she'd kill them if she could.

Even Amora underestimated her. Did the Enchantress seriously believe she would be willing to be someone's tool? If she did Carolyn was deeply disappointed in the other woman's intelligence. Then again she might have been getting her data from that fool Morgan, which would explain a lot.

With a mental command Carolyn summoned her extra arms, the four steel limbs crawling to her then locking onto the attachment points on her costume. She sighed happily as she felt the full link kick in, the arms dancing gracefully around her. The arms were physical power and she hated to be parted from them, even though she knew she couldn't wear them outside.

"Hush, my pretty," Carolyn purred as she stroked the rounded head of one of the tentacles, "you know I love you four the best."

Unlike Otto Octavius, Doctor Octopus. He had left her in jail, abandoning her like a broken toy when she was no more use to him. She had given him her body, her heart and her devotion, and he had repaid her with nothing. Bleakly she remembered tear fulled nights in the jail, waiting, hoping... and it was all for nothing.

In a burst of sudden fury her tentacles lashed out, stabbing and tearing at a old table, left there by some previous user. A few blows reduced it to kindling, then the laser emitters built into the end of each arm burned it to ash.

"Thank you, dear ones," Carolyn stroked each arm, then kissed the still warm ends tenderly. "My pretty ones, it isn't time for our revenge. But soon," she smiled coldly, "Otto, New York and that damned Spider Man will all pay."

In another part of town Carol Danvers returned to her apartment after a long days work. Calling up friends and even the occasional enemy in the intelligence community hadn't paid off, except for a tidbit from Logan. Apparently Tony Stark was VERY upset over the theft, even getting involved personally with the search.

About to open her door Carol paused, realizing some of the near invisible tells she left were gone. Someone had tampered with the door, though it was impossible to tell how. Deciding to take the bull by the hons she kicked the door open and dove inside, ducking behind a corner as she scanned the room .

"As capable as advertized," the brown haired woman said, sitting in a chair opposite the door and dressed in the form fitting jumpsuit of a SHIELD agent.

Carol straightened up, frowning, "What the hell are you doing in my home?"

"I guess we haven't been introduced," the woman said as she stood up, offering her hand, "My name is Maria Hill, I'm the current director of SHIELD."

To be continued....


	21. Chapter 21

Avengers: Wreckage

As Maria Hill stood up both women got a good look at each other, and Carol felt a sudden moment of vertigo. "Mary?" she yelped.

Maria looked faintly sheepish, pushing back brown hair as she admitted, "I always preferred Mary with my friends."

"Damn...," Carol shook her head, walking to the fridge to get a bottle of water. Of all the SHIELD agents in the world, it had to be this one?

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

Carol Danvers climbed out of the battered old plane with a casual air, her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. She was dressed touristy, as suited her current cover, and looked around the Madripoor airport casually.

Calling it a airport was a insult to real airports everywhere, of course. The run down shacks and gravel landing field barely ranked the name 'landing field.' There were a crowd of young men clearly hoping to be asked to be her porters over at one side, but Carol ignored them as she walked off towards the waiting taxi.

"Who sent you?" Carol bent down to look in the window at the attractive brown haired women.

"Patch," she answered, her brown hair cut short in a manly kind of cut. She looked intense and somewhat butch, with her leather jacket and blue jeans, but her eyes were almost gentle. "And you are?"

"Ace," Carol answered promptly.

"Get in," the driver smiled, "people around here call me Mary."

Carol got in the back, smiling faintly as the cab took off. She was here in Madripoor, a place many people called the ass end of the world, on a favor from her old friend Logan. Logan co-owned a bar here, and hung out when he could between cases with the X-Men, mostly because he could let his wilder instincts free here. It was a rough and dangerous place, to a extreme, and if you were a fool you could get killed very very easily.

Lowtown was run down and shabby, but the part of town which held much of the crime and profitable organizations. You could gamble, wench, drink and smoke to your heart's content, being sure to keep a hand over your wallet and a weapon ready. It was a deadly and exciting place, which was why it drew so many people.

They reached the Princess Bar dodging pedestrians and other idiots, the driver pulling up smoothly. Mary got out and opened Carol's door, surprisingly, and Carol kind of liked that old fashioned politeness. "Thank you," she smiled, knowing her short skirt was showing a lot of leg.

Mary clearly noticed, blushing faintly as she said, "You're welcome." She gestured to the bar, "Shall we go in?"

"Of course," Carol nodded, even as she wondered who this driver was.

The inside of the Princess Bar resembled every run down bar that Carol had been in, though there was a feeling of faded glory about it. Looking at the gilt in the corners and the hooks for chandeliers, she thought the place must have been quite something, once upon a time.

Logan turned, the silly looking patch that was his namesake here on, the short, burly man smiling warmly. "Ace, good to see ya," he smiled.

"Patch," Carol smiled back, "been awhile."

"Too long," Logan pulled her into a rough hug, his smile warm. He looked at the other woman, "You introduce yourself formally yet?"

"I don't think I really need to..." Mary sighed.

"Hey, you brought this to me," Logan pointed out, "least we deserve is full disclosure."

Carol raised her eyes, wondering what the hell was going on. At the very least, it wasn't what she had been expecting to deal with...

"All right," the younger woman sighed. Looking at Carol she smiled weakly, "My name is Maria Hill, I'm the head of SHIELD in Madripoor."

"I didn't even know SHIELD had a detachment in Madripoor," Carol acknowledged.

"Most people don't," Mary admitted wryly. She said simply, "Our primary job here is to monitor major criminal networks, providing data so that other SHIELD branches can be ready to act against their various operations."

"If you're just monitoring, why did you contact Patch here?" Carol nodded to Logan. "Not to mention him bringing me in."

"Because HYDRA is trying to set up a base here in Madripoor," Mary answered seriously, "and they're dealing for bio-weapons."

Logan lit a cigar, puffing away for a moment. "I don't like HYDRA being in town, which is why she contacted me," he said, "and there ain't no way I'm letting them deal with bio-weapons."

"Problem is, I can't get SHIELD to mobilize for a operation in Madripoor," Mary sounded frustrated as she explained, "because we're a UN run organization, we're bound by the treaties involving this cesspool"

The princes who had ruled Madripoor down through the years had been very canny individuals, all told. One of the things they had managed was to weave a web of treaties and obligations that prevented any nation from easily taking over the island, as well as making the nation a conduit for other countries spies and intrigue. No nation wanted to lose Madripoor as a resource, so they did not interfere in it's internal matters.

"So you need some unofficial muscle," Carol smiled wryly.

"That's why I went to Patch," Mary nodded, "and he suggested I call in you, Ace."

Carol rather suspected the woman knew who she and Logan were, but appreciated her being professional and using their aliases. "All right, do you have a plan?" she asked Logan and Mary.

"Two pronged attack," Mary offered, "you and Patch kick the front door down and make a distraction, I get in the back and deal with the bio-weapon."

"Simple," Carol noted.

"Less things to go wrong," Logan noted. He puffed on his cigar, "You up to this?"

Carol had to grin, "Hell yes. It'll be just like old times."

"Uhm, just the two of you?" Mary looked a bit concerned, "When you said you were calling in favors, I expected something more."

Carol grinned, "Trust me, we'll be more than enough."

While it wasn't long after Carol lost her cosmic powers as Binary, she still had her basic abilities of flight, strength and invulnerability. She and Logan ripped through the armored doors of the HYDRA base and wreaked havoc, tossing around green costumed goons with ease.

Carol punched a massive energy canon, bending it nearly double even as the trooper manning it fled. She wasn't in costume, trying to maintain a low profile, but otherwise she didn't hold back. Logan himself was in a simple black jumpsuit, cutting down HYDRA troops left and right.

Soon the main room was empty, even as a muffled boom was heard off in the distance. "Think she did it?" Patch asked, taking a moment to light up a cigar.

Not long afterwords Mary walked out of the back room, wearing a simple black jumpsuit. "Weapon destroyed, and the CIA puke trying to sell it to HYDRA had been detained," she reported smugly.

"CIA?" Carol frowned.

Mary sighed, "They have to finance their covert ops somehow."

The group packed up and headed out, knowing the local cops would just let the HYDRA goons go. Still, having a major operation like this be crippled would be a major blow, and all three of them took some pleasure in that.

Retiring to the Princess Bar Logan decided it was a time to celebrate, and people around their part of town were glad to join in. At that point Carol really hadn't thought she had a drinking problem, so she joined in, everyone whooping it up full blast. Even Mary joined in, the officer loosening up as the booze flowed.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

"You've come a long way from Madripoor," Carol finally said, studying Maria Hill thoughtfully.

"You too," Maria acknowledged. "I knew who you were at the time, but I had thought you were retired from heroing."

"I thought about it," Carol smiled, "but a Avengers emergency came up and I found myself back in the game again."

"And now you're here," Maria noted.

"And you're head of SHIELD," Carol acknowledged with a faint smile. She frowned as she asked, "What's going on?"

"It looks like I may need your help again," Maria admitted, frowning. "You know about the robberies recently?"

"Groups of minor costumed crooks hitting various places at the same time?" Carol noted thoughtfully. "Did they get SHIELD gear too?"

"Yes, damn it," Maria looked distinctly unhappy. "I.. want to tell you what was taken, but I need your word you won't discuss it."

"Can my team know?" Carol asked.

"If you think it's necessary," Maria said reluctantly. She puffed out a sigh, "Right now the Congress and Senate are fighting over a Superhuman Registration Act."

Carol's eyes widened in alarm, "Think it's going to pass?"

"Not this year," Maria answered frankly, "but eventually, yeah." She looked away, "In preperation, SHIELD has begun developing weaponry designed to be used against superhumans, in case there is active resistance."

"And whoever is behind the robberies has them?" Carol guessed grimly.

"Yes," Maria conceded. "They're powerful weapons, designed to do damage while also neutralizing the person's powers partially. It's difficult to say how effective they'll be, however."

Carol made a face, "They haven't been field tested too?" She paced around her suite as she frowned, "Can we expect SHIELD support?"

"Some," Maria answered honestly, "we don't want word of these weapons being stolen, so I won't flood the area with agents. But I can and will offer whatever data and other support we can."

"Fair enough," Carol nodded.

Maria got up from the chair and smiled as she walked to the doorway. "Then I look forward to working with you again," she said. A somewhat shy smile appeared on her face as she added, "I still remember that night in Madripoor."

A blush colored Carol's cheeks. "Me too,:" she admitted as Maria slipped out with a smile.

To be continued...


	22. Chapter 22

Avengers: Wreckage

Chapter 22

Amy Ray lay against Jackie Lukas, the lovely blond as naked as the other woman was. Her round breasts bounced naturally as she pushed herself up with a tired smile. "Wow," she murmured, smiling happily.

"Wow?" Jackie asked teasingly, her black hair flowing over the pillow on the bed.

"Wow," Amy repeated firmly, smirking. "You are a very good lover, you know," she said, smiling down at her.

Jackie smiled back, but a blush colored her cheeks as she said, "Would you believe I've never done this before?"

Amy felt a slight burst of surprise, then willingly let it show. "If so, you're a very fast learner," she reassured her gently.

Jackie hesitated, the two laying there together with one of her arms around Amy. "Have you ever...?" she asked.

As Amora she had seduced a few women here and there, but always for a tactical motive. She had never sought out someone based on love or desire, and it felt oddly good. "A few one night stands," she admitted, "things just never clicked."

Jackie chuckled softly, "I'd say we're clicking on all cylinders."

Amy kissed Jackie's cheek, snuggling closer as she purred, "That we are." She let a hand trail across her check then stroked one of the other woman's smaller breasts, "Do you want to do it again?"

"What, already?" Jackie blinked, blushing. As she felt Amy's hands on her she shuddered slightly then conceded, "Well, why not..."

Meanwhile, in another part of the city a group of scientists clad in bright yellow looked around the underground base worriedly. They were members of Advanced Idea Mechanics aka AIM, a cell of high tech terrorists who created or adapted technology for destructive purposes.

"Where is out contact?" one asked, hefting a rifle as the masked, helmeted figure studied the nearly empty base.

"Patience," Carolyn smirked as she emerged from the shadows, dressed in her protective green light armor and the unique octopus arms connected to her sides. She looked over the men in disdain, "I wish to see your leader."

"Why don't we simply take what we want?" the man demanded, leveling his gun at her and firing of a bold of energy.

With inhuman speed a metal arm whips around, blocking the bolt even as another telescopes towards him. In a splash of red it punches right through the helmet, killing the man instantly as most of the AIM troops cringe in fear.

"That was wasteful," the voice croaked as a scarred, intense looking brown haired woman rolled through the shaken fighters, a tube piercing her neck along with feeding tubes into her arms and dressed in a similar yellow jumpsuit.

"Clytemnestra Irwin," Carolyn nodded to her respectfully.

An unusual and dangerous woman, Clytemnestra Irwin was deeply connected to the Avenger Iron Man. Her brother Morley was the technical support when James Rhodes became Iron Man, and she and Morley assisted him and Tony Stark in founding a small company called Circuits Maximus. But the existence of the company was a threat to Obadiah Stane, so he bombed the facility, killing Morley, hurting Rhodes and forcing Stark to confront him. After Stane died Cly blamed him and Stark for her brother's death, and plotted with AIM to kill him. They failed, and the world thought Clytemnestra Irwin was dead.

"So," Clytemnestra said flatly, "you wish to ally with AIM. Why should we assist a second stringer who was defeated by Spider-Man, of all people?"

Carolyn grit her teeth, fighting to control a burst of rage that made her want to rip the woman out of her medical support chair and tear her apart. "Because I can give you a shot at revenge against Tony Stark," she told her, "not to mention against the heir of Stane, too."

Clytemnestra tilted her head to the side thoughtfully, a almost grotesque motion considering all the tubes and attachments to her chair. "Interesting," she said, "I'm listening."

"I have Mandroids, several Guardsmen armor and SHIELD anti-superhuman tech, all of which I'm confident I can use," Carolyn said frankly, "but while I'm technically skilled, I lack the ability to fully upgrade the suits."

"While AIM does," Clytemnestra agreed. She looked curious, "You wish us to hybridize the different technologies?"

"It's up to you," Carolyn said frankly, "blend the suits into one, upgrade each type of suit, I leave it in your hands."

"And in return for our efforts?" Clytemnestra asked curiously.

"You have targets that these suits could strike at," Carolyn said briskly, "I am perfectly willing to let you use these units to strike at them, before I use the suits."

"That is surprisingly generous of you," Clytemnestra noted. "Why?"

Carolyn smiled faintly, "I have a agenda I intend to follow, and your attacks may serve to hide my own motives."

"You are a devious woman," Clytemnestra nodded approvingly. "I insist that AIM be given the opportunity to study the technology," she said.

"If I'm asking you to refine the suits, you'd have to," Carolyn shrugged. She gave a shark like smile, "I plan to return to the east coast, you can do whatever you like here."

"I like the way you think," Clytemnestra smiled back coldly.

Out and away from the city Stane Enterprises was as busy as ever, the company pumping out cutting edge designs for other corporations and manufacturers. The parking lot was jammed with cars, even though the company encouraged ride sharing and transit alternatives for their staff.

May Scott, the head of security for Stane, sat in her office by the entrance to their office building as she calmly reviewed security footage, sipping a very good cup of coffee. The black haired woman was more handsome than beautiful, a quality brought out even more by the expensive business suit she wore.

After the attempted break in by two reporters May had her staff on high alert, but so far there was nothing. Not that she minded, exactly, but she did want to justify her generous pay stubs. Besides, she liked her bosses and wanted them kept safe.

A chime told her these was a incoming call, and May swiftly noted it was from the front gate. "Yes?" she answered the phone briskly.

"There's a reporter here from the Herald, says she has a appointment?" the young man frowned, his brown hair carefully tucked under a uniform cap.

"Name?" May asked dryly.

The guard quickly clarified, "Monica Stewart."

"Call a guard to watch the gate then escort her to the administration building," May ordered, "I'll meet you there."

Monica was a brassy redhead, a bit older than May but quite attractive and fit. She had a slight smile on her face as May walked up to them, her eyes twinkling with hidden amusement. "Thank you," she smiled to the guard as he quickly left.

"Wonder what got into him?" May asked innocently, a smile tugging at her lips.

Monica rolled her eyes as she muttered, "I'm sure I don't know."

"I'll take you up to see Ms. Stane," May said politely, leading the woman inside.

"Thank you," Monica answered as they walked through the front foyer, a staff member providing Monica a security pass. "Is this really necessary?" she asked, fingering the plastic and metal card clipped to the front of her dress.

"Yes, it keeps the laser array we built into the hallways from frying you," May said, her voice entirely deadpan.

Monica gave her a skeptical look as she asked, "You're joking, right?"

"I'll never tell," May answered blandly.

They went up a hall to the office, where the secretary waved them on through. Inside May was once again struck by her boss' odd looks, from the snow white hair to her wise, prematurely old eyes. She had been through a lot over the years, and it showed.

"Welcome," Olivia smiled calmly as she rose to offer her hand.

"Thank you," Monica shook it as she added, "this welcome is a lot warmer than the one Chad and I got earlier."

Olivia just shrugged casually as she said, "That will teach you not to try to sneak on other people's property."

Monica had to smile as she took a seat, Olivia sitting behind the desk and May lingering off to one side. "I suppose so," she conceded. "So," she asked as she sat back, "why the high security?"

"Stane Enterprises is a research and development company," Olivia said calmly, "a leaked design could cost us millions, not to mention possibly voiding contracts with our partners." She flashed a smile, "Plus, we're hosting a super team."

"Isn't three members a little small for a team?" Monica asked.

"I prefer quality to quantity," Olivia shrugged, "though I have feelers out for several other possible members."

May Scott watched in admiration as Olivia fed the reporter just enough information to create a story, yet didn't reveal anything she didn't want known. It was a masterful handling of the woman, just what she would expect from her boss.

"Well, thank you for the enlightening interview," Monica said wryly, apparently also aware that she had just been deflected quite effectively.

"You're quite welcome," Olivia answered smugly. She nodded to May, Ms. Scott will give you a tour of the facilities, at least the publicaly accessible parts."

"Thanks," Monica said as she and May filed out. They left the executive office and headed down the hall as she muttered, "That may have been my worst interview ever."

May had to work hard to hide her smirk. "Don't worry, I'm sure we can make it up to you," she said as she showed her around the offices.

"Oh?" Monica asked as she used her digital camera to take shots of the ultra modern offices, then they went downstairs and outside once more.

May smiled slightly as they went across the parking lot to one of the research buildings, "I think we have a dinner date planned? We could do it tonight if you like..."

Monica looked at her with a suddenly warmer smile. "Yes, I think I'd like that," she admitted, reaching out to squeeze May's hand.

"Good," May squeezed back, then let go as they went inside.

To be continued...

Notes: Just catching up on some plot threads. I wanted Amora to 'land' Jackie, so that's why they're here. Clytemnestra Irwin is a canon character from Iron Man, but she hasn't appeared since the early 200s of the series. I thought her and AIM would be interesting 'tech support' people for our villains.


	23. Chapter 23

Avengers: Wreckage

Chapter 23

Tony Stark had a lot on his plate as he flew his Iron Man suit away from New York, taking it up into the stratosphere and letting himself 'fall' towards the west coast. The Avengers were still hunting down criminals from the Raft breakout, there was the ongoing Hulk issue, there were politicians rumbling about superhuman registry, and now there were the attacks on SHIELD and Stark facilities.

The red and gold figure dropped from the sky, the new Extremis operated armor allowing him to 'feel' the slight course corrections he needed to make, guiding Iron Man down towards Los Angeles. The city of the Angels was as beautiful as ever, but Tony knew it hid many of his personal demons. He had suffered his drinking bouts here and in New York, lost his company and nearly destroyed himself. Only the assistance of good friends and a lot of luck had saved him.

Tony descended to land in a block in what was commonly referred to as Silicon Valley, a place where new buildings were going up and people bustled about. He stood a moment, remembering the small start-up he had worked for there, and how things had gone so horribly wrong. Then, silently, he took off again.

Stark International was a modern marvel, a sprawling complex where thousands of people worked on developing the technology of tomorrow. Most of their work was government contracts, providing everything from the flight packs SHIELD uses to the powerful engines that keep the SHIELD Hellicarrier aloft.

Iron Man dropped to the roof of the main tower at Stark International, then entered a concealed elevator that carried him down into the building. As he descended he shed his armor and donned clothes kept there for the occasion, emerging in his private office dressed in a fine suit and looking the part of a billionaire industrialist.

"Welcome back, boss," Bethany Cabe smiled as she entered the office, the attractive redhead notified by sensors that Stark had returned. The woman wore a form fitting bodysuit based off SHIELD designs, with a stylized SI logo, and her excellent figure filled out the costume nicely.

"Beth," Tony nodded, doing his best not to notice her... assets. The black haired man sat back at his desk, the massive slab of oak and metal hiding any adverse reactions. "Do you have to wear that?" he asked plaintively.

Beth smirked, "I just do it to get a rise out of you."

Tony sighed softly. "If you're here, I figure there's a security problem," he told his head of security thoughtfully.

"I sent you the report on the attack on one of our sub-factories and storage facilities," Beth sat on the edge of the desk, "and it's worse than we figured. They got a complete run of the new 'cape-hunter' gear, and the weapons systems that go with them."

"Crap," Tony cursed softly.

The 'cape-hunter' systems were a fail safe, something Tony was asked to develop by the government in case superhumans went renegade. Coupling the best protective gear with advanced power neutralizing technology, the systems were meant to be used to hunt down super heroes who had crossed a line and killed. The idea of the technology falling into criminal hands was terrible.

"And it gets worse," Beth added, "someone hit SHIELD facilities too."

"Same people?" Tony asked.

"Same M.O.," Beth said, "using costumed B-Listers in battle armor. I'll pass the police reports, but apparently whoever set this up was smart. They used disposable agents as 'cut outs' to recruit the troops, then killed the agents that did the hiring."

"So that's pretty much a dead end," Tony frowned as he used the Extremis upgrades in his body and to skim reports..

"Mostly," Beth said, "one of the guys apparently made it alive to the cops, once he realized his comrades were being offed. He couldn't give a description because the guy or gal was in a hood and robe, and apparently he called himself 'the Master Planner'."

"Master Planner," Tony echoed, already doing a wide ranging search of the web, "According to aliases online, it's a identity used by two criminals, Big Man and the Green Goblin. Both Spider-Man foes, so I guess I should call him about it."

"Want me to sit in?" Beth ask as he mentally ordered the phones to dial.

"It should be fine," Tony waved her back to her seat.

Sadly, his conversation with Peter Parker wasn't terribly fruitful. He acknowledged his old foes had used the Master Planner identity, but he wasn't aware anyone new had. He did promise to shake down any of his criminal contacts for more information.

"A few of my... well, b-listers have dropped out of sight lately," Peter offered as they ended the call, "I don't think they could be doing this, but I'll ask around too. A few might have the technical skills to pull this off."

"Which b-listers?" Beth had to ask.

"Alistair Smythe, Carolyn Trainer," Peter recited with a sigh, "and maybe the Vulture, if he was on the top of his game."

"We'll look into it, thanks," Tony agreed as they ended the call.

"We?" Beth asked.

"Well, probably you," Tony admitted, "I need to see the mayor of LA to talk to her about a superhero project I'm working on, then I think I'll need to drop in on Olivia Stane again."

"Looking to romance the lady?" Beth raised a eyebrow as she teased her boss.

"More like burying the hatchet," Tony sighed, "I've looked into Stane top to bottom, as far as anyone can tell, she's clean." Very reluctantly he added, "And we may need her help with this high tech heist situation."

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

Amora the Enchantress felt strangely dissatisfied as she sat on her throne, surrounded by the ill-gotten gains she had acquired in her months in LA. She effectively ruled the underworld here, as well as commanding an impressive army of supervillains, but somehow it all seemed kind of... petty.

However, her depression was quickly knocked away when she found out about what had been happening. "A unauthorized criminal attack?" Amora growled, "Why was I not told?"

Morgan Stark shivered under her fierce gaze, but the woman met her eyes as bravely as she could. "I tried to contact you," she said defensively, "but you didn't return my calls."

Amora flushed slightly, feeling a faint twinge of embarrassment. Over the past few days she had primarily been in her Amy Ray identity, first going out with Jackie on a date, then later bedding the woman. She had been so caught up in what was happening she had barely seen the news, much less checked her messages.

"I had expected you could handle things without me being around," Amora expertly turned it around, "was I wrong?"

Morgan looked flustered, which was exactly what Amora wanted. "I've done my best to do what I thought you wanted," she said stiffly.

Amora casually waved that off, "Tell me what happened, in detail please."

In growing horror Amora listened as Morgan described coordinated attacks across the country, hitting SHIELD and Stark facilities, while also distracting the primary super teams. Even the Force Works team had been distracted by a team of agents.

"This is intolerable," Amora said flatly, "it is a blatant challenge to my authority." She fixed Morgan with a deadly gaze, "Who is responsible for this?"

"I don't know," Morgan admitted, "whoever did this was good enough to eliminate all connections back to them. All we know is what was taken, and none of it would be easily sold off or traded away."

"Of course not," Amora scoffed, "whoever stole this intends to arm their private forces." She sat back on her throne, her expression thoughtful. "Who do we have who can operate relatively covertly?" she asked after a moment.

Morgan pulled out her PDA and scrolled through the files. "Well, most of the heavy hitters like the Wrecking Crew are out," she mused, "but Delilah still isn't commonly known. Cutthroat and Diamondback are in town looking for work, as are some of Taskmaster's trainees. We can deploy a fair number of former Ultimatum agents, who became disillusioned about the group."

"All right," Amora nodded, "deploy them in civilian clothes, I want the city canvassed for any signs of the stolen technology. We find the equipment, we find whoever was responsible for this."

"Yes, ma'am," Morgan nodded respectfully.

Amora hesitated then said, "I want all ongoing criminal acts suspended, at least for the time being. All our efforts must be devoted to finding this usurper."

"Not all our people are going to be happy about that," Morgan cautioned.

Amora gave a very dangerous smile. "Then they can come to me," she purred, "and I'll discuss it with them personally." She leaned forward slightly, "What is Carolyn Trainer up to?"

"I wasn't aware she was up to anything, other than upgrading those octopus arms of hers," Morgan offered a bit nervously. "Do you think she can assist with the search?"

"Didn't one of her schemes against Spider-Man involve computer technology?" Amora mused, "I'm terrible with the stuff. Have her use the internet and try to trace any references to the technology that was stolen."

Morgan nodded, "I'll pass your orders on to her."

"Now go," Amora waved the woman off, "I have thinking to do."

Amora sat back, then most uncharacteristically bit her bottom lip nervously. There was something going on, every flinch that weasel Morgan made told her that, but what was it? And worse, what could she DO about it? She might wield a great deal of power personally, but she was more and more aware of how much authority Morgan had with her minions. She could mobilize a army, and Amora would only know after it happened.

'I relied on fear to keep that fool under control,' Amora thought, 'but clearly that isn't enough' Which left her in a difficult position. She could just eliminate Morgan, but replacing her would be difficult. Worse, she didn't know who in her own organization she could trust.

"Other than anyone I personally recruited," Amora growled, knowing that was a depressingly small number.

In a burst of frustration Amora got up, her blond hair shimmering, and strode across the sound stage as her minions scattered fearfully. Leaving the building she stood a moment in the sun, soaking up the warmth before heading to her waiting car. Getting in she decided that she would have to search herself, as well as dusting off old contacts.

'I wonder if the Tinkerer is still in business?' Amora wondered as she started up the car, "And is there anyone in the police I can lean on? I seem to recall the Chief still owes me for helping him get elected back in the day.'

Driving away Amora firmly concentrated on business, trying not to let a certain dark haired woman distract her. Or possibly remind her there might be alternatives to being a supervillain and pursuing this life style...

To be continued...

Notes: Sorry for the talky/thoughtful chapters. I mostly needed to get everyone moving so they could bounce off each other later. Let's say things are gonna start getting messy soon.


	24. Chapter 24

Avengers: Wreckage

Chapter Twenty-four

Clytemnestra Irwin's wheelchair was pushed into the AIM headquarters off the coast of California, then the crippled woman waved her attendants off. A press of a switch and the medical tubes retracted, and the scarred woman easily stepped out of the chair.

"Unload the suits and weapons we got from Trainer, I want full studies of them begun immediately," Clytemnestra ordered, her words only a bit slurred by the burn scars on her face.

"You are not the Scientist Supreme here,"the head technician growled, glaring out of the odd beekeeper helmet the main workers wore.

Clytemnestra gave him a cold look, "I am working directly for her, as you well know." She calmly drew the pistol at her side and shot him, the energy bolt blowing open his chest and killing him instantly. She put the gun away as she calmly asked, "Any other objections?"

The workers quickly raced to unload the armors and stolen weapons, a few stepping around the dead man. A menial worker grabbed him by the boots and dragged the body out of the way and Clytemnestra made a mental note of him. That showed initiative, which was rare in their lower orders.

Satisfied things were in hand, Clytemnestra left the loading bay and went deeper into the base under the ocean floor. Ironically the base had been started with the wreck of a previous AIM project, a advanced submarine defeated by Iron Man. They had bought it through middlemen and sunk it out here, using it as the start of their current headquarters.

The 'roof' was clear, honeycomb designed plastics, easily able to withstand the pressures of the sea. The halls were brightly lit and comfortable, like much of the base. Scientists could not be expected to produce in darkened caves or cubicles, after all. Only the best was provided to AIM staff, and in return they were expected to give their best.

Clytemnestra entered her quarters, a opulent room with a fancy desk, wet bar and couch, with a bedroom connected by a open door. She sat at her desk and pressed a concealed switch, opening a faintly glowing screen. "Connect me to the Scientist Supreme," she ordered.

It took a few seconds to connect, due to fiber optic land lines and satellite switches of the signal, then the attractive face of Monica Rappaccini appeared on the screen. The black haired older woman smiled, "Clytemnestra, how goes the operation?"

"We have samples of the capekiller technology and weapons," Clytemnestra said briskly, "we'll send the designs to you as quickly as possible. Do you need the Mandroid designs as well?"

"Don't joke," Monica snickered, "we had copies of the Mandroids almost as soon as they were completed. SHIELD's security on it's technology is a joke."

Clytemnestra didn't mention that Stark's security had beaten them so far, she didn't think her employer would appreciate it. "I have assigned my best team to the capekiller technology, minus Doctor Tensen," she said.

"What happened to Richard?" Monica asked curiously.

"He questioned my authority too often," Clytemnestra sighed. "I warned him several times, but for someone so intelligent he was quite arrogant."

"A pity, he had good genes," Monica noted. The older woman looked at Clytemnestra for a moment, "Are you determined to go through with attacking Stark and Stane?"

Clytemnestra knew she was referring to a earlier discussion they had had, about what she ultimately wanted to do in AIM. "I am," she nodded, "I'm already setting up a false trail. No one will connect my actions to you or AIM."

"As if I care about that," Monica snorted. "Cly, it would be a terrible waste of potential. You've bloomed in AIM, advanced to the top and helped us grow and recover from our losses." She hesitated and added, "And you've become a friend. I'd hate to lose you."

Clytemnestra was touched, even though she knew Monica was at least in part manipulating her. That was the trouble with working with scientific geniuses, they were often manipulative to various degrees. "You've been a friend to me as well," she admitted, "I don't know if I could have recovered without your support. But this is something I need to do."

Monica frowned at her, clearly not used to being balked. "All right," she decided, "but I am determined we take all the precautions we can to make sure you come out of this alive."

"Monica..." Clytemnestra started.

"No," Monica shook her head, "I am serious about this. I will not let you get killed in some roaring rampage of revenge." She leaned forward, "You have the full resources of that base to make sure you get out alive."

Clytemnestra tried again, "Monica, that's a bit excessive..."

"We are going to make sure you survive," Monica repeated. "What suit did you decide to go after them in, anyway?"

"We purchased the Firepower armor," Clytemnestra admitted, "though my tech teams have been extensively modifying it in their spare time." She shrugged awkwardly, "They keep muttering something about 'pimp my ride' whatever that means."

Monica snickered, "Okay, but don't let them go too overboard." She looked thoughtful, "Would it help if you had capekiller armors along? Trainer said you could use them."

"It's a thought," Clytemnestra admitted as she and her boss expanded on her revenge scheme. 'Looks like I might not be dying for revenge after all,' she thought bemusedly.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

There was something pretty damn surreal watching a giant purple and blue robot climbing the side of the building housing the newspaper. "What the hell is that thing?" War Machine had to ask as they hovered nearby, trying to decide what to do.

"It's a Kree Sentry Robot," Warbird said, the blond haired superhuman dressed in her black leotard and gold lightning bolt symbol. "Though how the hell it got here I don't know."

Watching from the street Amora Ray listened in with a minor spell. 'I know,' she thought grimly, 'I had the Tinkerer repair it months ago, but I certainly never ordered it deployed.'

"What can it do?" Thunderstrike asked, the black haired woman hovering by twirling her hammer. The laws of physics took one look at her and whimpered, but she ignored it.

"It's about class fifty in strength," Warbird remembered, "the metal it's composed of is very durable, and at least some of the Sentry robots could shoot beams from it's eyes."

"Oh just lovely," War Machine sighed as it climbed the Herald building.

"I think our first move is to get it off the building and away from people," Warbird said.

Olivia Stane's voice came through their communicators, "I've got police mobilized and clearing the area." She paused, "The mayor is begging you not to destroy too many buildings."

"We'll do what we can," War Machine promised.

Amy Ray scowled as the police forced everyone back even as the humongus Sentry reached the top of the building. "Sorry, miss, we have to keep folks back," the older man said gruffly.

'Is it looking for Warbird? She's part Kree...,' Amy wondered as she watched Thunderstrike avoid a blow by a distressingly small amount. "Be careful," she murmured, clutching her shopping bag close to her nervously.

Using Thunderstrike as a distraction Warbird and War Machine came up behind the robot and bodily lifted the Sentry off the building. In a burst of speed they carried it off, even as the Robot flailed it's arms trying to clobber any of them.

"Get under here and help!" Warbird grunted as Thunderstrike joined them, "This thing's heavy!"

"Right," Thunderstrike put her shoulder into it as they raced across LA.

"I've got warning lights going off in my armor," War Machine reported grimly as they neared the edge of the city, "We have to drop it soon."

Warbird grunted in effort holding up her side, her own powers stressed to their limit. "There's a empty parking lot up ahead," she said, "we'll drop it there."

"All right," Thunderstrike said as they got over the empty lot, the nearby warehouse seemingly deserted, "drop it!"

The three women scattered, releasing the Sentry even as they tried to keep clear of it's arms. It hammered into the ground with a thump, buckling pavement and throwing dust into the air. It lay there inert for a few moments, then slowly began to push itself to it's feet.

"Damn, it just won't go down," War Machine muttered.

"Then let's put it down," Thunderstrike cried as she spun her mace, letting lightning dance around it as it built in power. Then with a cry she released the weapon, sending it hurtling at the robot. With a crash of thunder it punched right through the Sentry's chest, yet barely seemed to stagger it.

War Machine opened up with palm based repulsors, blasting at it with bolts of energy. The thing staggered under the fire, then the armor activated the shoulder mounted missile launcher. A flight of mini-missiles launched, then shockingly the Sentry's eyes glowed, firing off it's own energy bolts and blasting the missiles to ash.

"Damn," Olivia blurted, watching via remote feed. "By the way, do you know you're thrashing a Stark branch office?"

"Oh, that's gonna go over well," War Machine sighed.

Just then Warbird dove down from the sky, accelerating at top speed even as her fists blazed with unearthly energy. She hit the Sentry like a rocket, hammering right through the upper shoulder, down the torso and out the other side, hitting the pavement in a burst of explosive energy.

"Wow," Thunderstrike managed as superhot smoke and steam billowed up, concealing both the Sentry and Warbird.

"Sensors can't get a reading," War Machine reported.

A moment later Warbird staggered out of the smoke, her cloths smudged and looking like she had been set afire. "Ugh," she grunted as she nearly fell into War Machine's arms, "is it down?"

The concealing smoke finally drifted aside, revealing the shattered wreck of the Sentry. It's head hung on a angle, it's arm torn off and the core body gutted. The 'light' in the eyes seemed to have gone out, and War Machine's sensors confirmed it was dead.

"Well damn," Thunderstrike asked, "how did you DO that?"

"I went as high as I could and dove down at top speed," Warbird shrugged tiredly, "converting friction energy to stored power that I released as I hit it."

"Remind me not to piss you off," War Machine noted.

"Agreed," a voice boomed, coming from up above them.

Thunderstrike spun around, raising her mace in a guard position. War Machine aimed her weapons skyward, even as laser targeting beams painted the target.

Even Warbird summoned up some power as she said flatly, "Iron Man."

The red and gold armored figure descended, then landed lightly, the sleek figure still looking very dangerous. Surprisingly he flipped his visor up, revealing the familiar face of Tony Stark. "Good work, all of you," he smiled, "even the Avengers might have had a problem with it."

"What are you here for, Stark?" War Machine demanded, not deactivating any of her target locks.

"I need your help," Iron Man admitted.

To be continued...

Notes: Monica Rappaccini was established as the leader of a branch of AIM in the Scorpion mini-series as well as in MODOK's 11. She ends up pretty much in charge of the largest AIM division, other than some small splinter groups. She has no connection to Clytemnestra Irwin in canon, I just thought it would be interesting.


	25. Chapter 25

Avengers: Wreckage

Chapter Twenty Five

"What are you here for, Stark?" War Machine demanded, not deactivating any of her target locks, the lasers painting weak points for her weapons. Not that she had much hope of taking him down, but if it came down to a fight she had to try.

"I need your help," Iron Man admitted.

Warbird raised her eyebrows in surprise, but before she could say anything they heard the sound of emergency vehicles. The first police pulled in moments later, looking in awe at both the superheroes and the wreckage of the Sentry robot.

"How do you want to handle this?" Warbird asked Tony dryly. They had destroyed the robot on his property, after all, and he was a member of the Avengers. The police were also more likely to listen to him, despite their being the 'local' heroes.

"It's fine," Tony sighed as the swarm of reports arrived right after the cops.

Like a pro Tony handled the cops and the press easily, making this into a public relations event. He was all smiles as he praised Force Works' efforts and without saying so, implied they were all close friends. Thanking the team again he told the press that they had to go, and as a unit they took off into the afternoon sky.

"Nice," Thunderstrike admitted, the woman hurtling along, pulled by the magic mace she had inherited. She looked curious, "What did you mean, you need our help?"

Iron Man blazed along, his boot thrusters carrying him along as fast as any of them as he said, "I'd like to discuss this in private, if I could."

"You mind using our headquarters?" Warbird asked neutrally.

"That's fine," Tony said agreeably. A bit sheepishly he added, "I need to apologize to Olivia Stane anyway."

Stane Enterprises was only minutes away and the team was soon descending on the building Stane had set apart for their use. While it wasn't as grand as Avengers Mansion it was a fine building, and one well prepared for defense. This was evident as security systems reacted to Iron Man, targeting him with multiple weapons before a disarm code shut them down.

"Sorry," May Scott said insincerely as the black haired security officer touted a electromagnetic pulse rifle that could turn the Iron Man into a paperweight.

"Perfectly understandable," Iron Man said dryly as they landed in the courtyard in front of the building. As he was talking he noted several men and women watching them from nearby buildings, then Olivia Stane hurried out of the main building towards them.

Ignoring Iron Man for the moment Olivia went up to War Machine as the white haired woman asked, "Are you all right, Jen?"

War Machine flipped up the steel grey mask, the redhead looking a bit sheepish. "I'm fine," she said with a smile, "we managed to handle the Sentry just fine."

"Good," Olivia sighed.

"Oh sure, ignore us," Warbird joked as she and Thunderstrike watched with amusement, "we just did all the heavy lifting."

Iron Man bit back a chuckle as Olivia pulled back, looking a bit sheepish. She tidied the slick business suit she was wearing, then cleared her throat. "I'm glad everyone is all right," she said, "I was worried after reading the files on the Sentry's capabilities." She looked at the outsider as she said, "I didn't expect to see you again, Mr. Stark."

"Please, call me Tony," he smiled slightly. More seriously he said, "If I could speak to you and your team in private, I'd appreciate it."

"Join us inside then," Olivia agreed as she led them in. They ended up in the main meeting room, where Olivia took the head of the table and Tony sat on the opposite end. The others took seats for various reasons, with War Machine nearest Olivia. Tony took off his helmet and set it beside him on the table, revealing a handsome if tired man.

"You said you needed our help," Warbird said as she took off her domino style mast and set it on the table. Curiously Carol Danvers continued, "Why aren't you bringing the Avengers into it?"

There was a undercurrent of bitterness in her voice, but Tony didn't let his dismay show. More than once he regretted how the new Avengers team had come together so randomly. If he had a choice Carol was one of the people he would have recruited, but...

"It's a west coast problem, and there isn't a west coast team any more," Tony admitted, "as well, your team is already involved."

"The technology robberies," Olivia realized.

"Yes," Tony agreed. He hesitated, unsure what to say.

Carol sighed slightly in exasperation. "In addition to standard SHIELD gear they stole experimental cape killer gear your company designed," she said, "if it gets out you lost it your reputation could be seriously damaged."

Tony gave Carol a thoughtful look. "You have a contact in SHIELD?" he guessed at her source of information.

"No comment," Carol smiled slightly.

Tony decided not to push. "I'm less concerned with my reputation than the harm the technology could do," he admitted. He looked across at Olivia, "I'm willing to provide schematics and tracking data on the equipment they stole, if it would help."

"That's assuming we agree to help," Thunderstrike noted dryly.

Olivia sighed softly as she shrugged. "I'm not willing to let someone as organized as these criminals are have access to this technology," she admitted. She looked around the table, "Does anyone seriously object?"

"I'm in," Carol admitted, sighing.

"Agreed," War Machine nodded.

Thunderstrike shrugged, "I figured someone should bring it up, but yeah. I'll help."

"So, are we dealing with one group?" Tony asked curiously. "Or are there factions?"

"I think there's at least two," Olivia admitted with a frown. "One group has mostly used magic and is a conventional mob, we think. The other is using tech based villains like chess pieces."

"And we don't know who's running either group," Carol conceded, "other than coming up with the name Master Planner."

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

The Wrecker wasn't a genius, but he wasn't stupid either. When that pencil neck Morgan Stark showed up at their hideout as a woman, he barely batted an eye. He had seen much crazier shit over the years, after all. He was surprised he was claiming Amora, the boss, was gone.

"No one's seen her for days," the attractive woman said, "and this new player, Master Planner, is making his move."

"And what does this have to do with us?" Thunderball asked, the black man looking skeptical.

"You need to decide which way the wind is going," Morgan said flatly. "We could use people like you, assuming you're smart."

"You'd better hope Amora is gone, saying that," Wrecker noted dryly. "She's been pretty good to us, you know."

"She's had you hiding for weeks," Morgan argued. "The Planner needs you, and you won't have to cower in this dump anymore."

"I am getting tired of the suite," Bulldozer conceded.

"So what do you want us to do?" Wrecker asked warily, studying the woman. What was most telling was that Morgan didn't even seem scared, and she should be, talking to them like this. Maybe Amora really was gone?

"That's the genius of this," Morgan smiled, "just go out and do what comes naturally. We want you to demolish Amora's base in Awesome Studios."

"That's crazy," Piledriver shook his head, "Amora will toast us."

"If she shows up," Morgan said. She smiled unpleasantly, "And if she does, we'll have a very unpleasant surprise for her."

Less than a hour later Wrecker smashed through the outer gate of the movie studio, the lack of alarms making the purple and geen clad villain raise his eyebrows slightly. "Think she's really abandoned the place?" he asked as they moved across the parking lot.

"Looks like it," Thunderball agreed, frowning as he used his wrecking ball to smash the fake water tower on one side of the lot.

Piledriver and Bulldozer began to smash up a nearby building, even as Bulldozer wondered, "Think Amora left any treasure here?"

"Doubt it," Piledriver said, but he did sweep the rubble for anything shining, just in case.

Wrecker used his wrecking ball to smash the sound stage door down, revealing the room Amora had mostly used as her throne room. It was mostly empty, but the fancy chair she had sat in was still there, along with boxes and bags of stuff.

"Hey, let's look," Bulldozer hurried over to the throne.

The boxes were disappointingly empty, and the bags just had junk. Wrecker kicked over a box in disgust as he muttered, "Bunch of junk."

"Let's finish destroying the place," Thunderball suggested.

"Yeah," Wrecker agreed. A impulse seized him and he raised his wrecking bar, then smashed it down on-top of the throne.

"Wait, what..." Piledriver yelped as they were all suddenly engulfed by a eerie green blow. The light blazed, then when it winked out they were gone.

The Raft was the highest security prison in America. An artificial island off of New York it held the greatest villains deep underground where they couldn't harm anyone. It was, in theory, impregnible. However, it WAS vulnerable to magic.

In a burst of light Wrecker and friends landed in jail cells, even as guards looked on in disbelief. "What the hell?" Wrecker yelled as alarmed wailed.

Thunderball was slightly smarter as he yelled, "Amora, you bitch!"

Back at the base Morgan Stark gaped in disbelief on seeing the four just disappear. "What was that?" she yelped.

Carolyn sat back, the other woman looking more amused than anything. "Booby trap," she decided, "probably left by Amora. Or even something she intended for the Wrecking crew if they betrayed her."

"And this doesn't scare you?" Morgan demanded. "She sent away four of our most powerful soldiers!" she whined.

Carolyn sniffed. "Muscle is easy to find, Morgan," she told him with disdain, "we need more than that." She smiled coldly, "And I know just where to find it."

To be continued...


	26. Chapter 26

Avengers Wreckage

Chapter Twenty Six

Amora the Enchantress aka Amy Ray was running down the street, her long blond hair flowing behind her, the green swimsuit and legging she wore as a 'costume' hugging her body. Behind her the sound of clanking machinery echoed, the armored villains racing to try to close with her.

'Cold iron, it HAD to be cold iron,' Amora thought bitterly. Generally speaking her magic was powerful and effective against modern technology, but she suffered from some ancient weaknesses. Raw iron, unlike refined steel and other metals, could serve to 'ground out' her magic, weakening it severely. She didn't know how her enemy found out, but they had 'plated' the battlesuits with chunks of the material.

The Crimson Dynamo armor was one of the older models, big, bulky and covered with conduits. But despite it's age the powered armor was very dangerous, especially after being upgraded by the Tinkerer. Beside him was the Mauler, the silver and blue Iron Man knock off. Possessing a arm cannon and a electric shock attack, it wasn't exactly a major player. Hell, the suit had problems fighting Daredevil! But it was dangerous enough to Amora with her powers more limited than useful.

'I wonder why they're not flying after me?' Amora mused, but swiftly decided they were trying to stay covert. Or at least as covert as two idiots in tin suits could manage. Which she could use to her advantage, she decided as she hurried around a corner...

"Damn it," Crimson Dynamo cursed as he lumbered along. In the air, the Dynamo armor was graceful and imposing, but on the ground it was awkward as hell. Worse, it really hadn't been BUILT for running and was chafing him in painful areas.

The Mauler had to hide her smirk as the ran along beside him. Her armor was lighter and more form fitting, and therefore was easier to run in. The big downside in her case was stuffing her breasts into the male structured chest cavity of the suit.

"Amora!" Mauler cried, "Just give up! Make it easier on yourself!"

"Like that'll work," the Dynamo huffed and puffed.

"Gotta try," Mauler shrugged as they raced around the corner.

There was a short moment of surprise as they hung in midair over a massive hole in the sidewalk, then with two cries of alarm they both dropped down into a sewer tunnel below. With a smirk Amora gestured, re-sealing the portal then raced off once more.

Erupting from the water like a angry volcano and cursing loudly Dynamo raised his fist towards the roof as he growled, "I'm going to...!"

"No! No energy weapons!" Mauler yelled, both filthy armored warriors covered in was was probably shit, mud and plant matter.

"Why not?" Dynamo demanded furiously.

"Low profile, remember?" Mauler snapped back. "Besides, there are flammable gasses down here. It probably wouldn't kill us, in these suits, but by god would it be visible."

Dynamo hesitated, then reluctantly lowered his arm and dissipated the energy bolt. As he and Mauler plodded off down the tunnel looking for someplace they could get out of the sewers he had to mutter, "I hate magic."

Up on the surface Amora stopped jogging, finally, and ducked down a alley. With a few chanted words she restored the illusion of being Amy Ray, then walked off while trying to look casual. It was a hard act to manage, now that she knew for certain that even her servant Morgan Stark had betrayed her, but she did her best.

Amy tried not to scowl, but it was hard to maintain her poise as a rising starlet. Morgan had asked to meet her regarding the attack on her movie studio, claiming she knew who was behind it. Of COURSE Amora had figured it was a trap and planned accordingly, but her enemies had been clever. When she arrived at the meeting place they had tried to spring a mechanical trap first, to contain her. Only after that failed had the two armored knights attacked.

'Morgan, you utter bastard,' Amora thought grimly. She had done a lot for the disgraced industrialist, saving his life and paying off debts he had owed. YES she had turned him into a woman, but even that wasn't so bad, really. And in return she had sold her out, and worse Amora still didn't know who. All she did know so far was he or she called themselves the Master Planner and used various high tech villains.

Of course the first suspect has to be Amora's new recruit Carolyn Trainer, bur she dismissed the woman just as quickly. Lady Octopus had always been just a Spidey second stringer, unable to make it here in the big leagues.

Carolyn Trainer sneezed suddenly, the scientist blinking. Phineas Mason, the old man known as the Tinkerer, looked at her curiously as he asked, "Are you all right, young lady?"

"Someone must be talking about me or something," Carolyn shook her head.

Amy sighed and ducked into a coffee shop that was not far from the building she was renting a apartment in. She really needed a coffee. If there was any reason to justify the existence of the human race, it was the creation of caffeinated beverages. She brightened up considerably as she drank her coffee, then brightened up even more as a familiar face strode by.

"Jackie!" Amora waved.

Jackie Lucas smiled as the slightly taller woman trotted over, a briefcase at the well dressed woman's side. "Hey, Amy," she said as she sat down at one of the cafe tables with her, "I missed seeing you this morning."

"I had a meeting," Amy smiled wryly.

"Me too," Jackie admitted. She smiled, "I've got several designs in the review process right now. It's tiring as hell, but rewarding to actually get intelligent input."

As Amy listened to Jackie enthuse about her job, she wondered if she could actually work for a living. With her magic she pretty much just had to ask for something and it was her's, but lately that had begun to grow boring. It was all just too easy, really. But could she really manage to hold down a common, mundane job?

"You look thoughtful," Jackie noted, "anything I can help with?"

"Just musing a career change," Amy admitted. She winked as she joked, "Could a architect like yourself use a good looking and sassy secretary?"

"Send me a resume and I'll think about it," Jackie teased back.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

Across the city at the LA Herald, Carol Danvers was basking in the glow of another front page story. 'ULTIMATUM cell busted!' was the top line, followed by 'Terrorist Group foiled by police and Force Works!'

Mind you, the headline was almost totally inaccurate for the fine details. As far as Carol could determine the group were actually former agents of the international terrorist organization who had apparently quit when the Red Skull tried to take over. They went to work for the local crime boss, apparently, and she stumbled over them looking for leads on the Master Planner. Carol called the cops for back up, then busted the hideout as Warbird.

Her editor Ron Black had let her story go out intact, but he had insisted on the inaccurate headline. "Terrorists sell papers," he shrugged, "and 'former terrorists' hasn't got the same ring to it."

"Yeah, yeah," Carol sighed. She really hated the sensationalism that was used to sell papers, but what could you do? They were fighting both the internet and TV news, after all.

"Great photos, by the way," Ron added. He frowned, "Don't take too many chances, huh? If you get killed sneaking into some crooks base I'd loose a good reporter."

"Your concern warms my heart," Carol said wryly.

"Good," Ron laughed, "now get back to work."

Carol was at her desk, doing research for a article. Well, at least that was what she was telling her coworkers anyway. What she was doing was digging through public police records, trying to track all the b and c list super crooks that had infested the LA area. It was a distressingly long list, frankly.

'How the heck did we miss this?' Carol found herself wondering more than once.

Of course, crooks moving out here made a lot of sense, from their point of view. The majority of superheroes were based out of New York and, mostly, operated on the East Coast, so moving away made sense. And out west there weren't many superheroes, other than Iron Man and, when he worked out of LA, Wonder Man.

There were hundreds of minor crooks out here, plus a few retired big names and supposedly reformed masterminds. She had hoped to narrow down possibilities for who the Master Planner was, but if this data was right there were just more candidates.

"You don't look happy," a familiar voice noted and Carol looked up to meet Monica's eyes.

Monica Stewart looked amused as the other woman leaned on Carol's desk sipping a coffee. A sexy redhead she practically oozed sex appeal, along with a cynical knowledge of how the world worked. She had been in the paper business longer than Carol, but remained rather amused by her job.

"Just researching a article," Carol admitted, "did you know we have more super crooks out here than in New York?"

"It wouldn't much surprise me," Monica conceded. "I always wondered why they all stayed in New York with all the superheroes."

"I think they get caught up in the whole cycle of revenge thing," Carol mused.

"Huh?" Monica blinked.

Carol sat back in her chair. "Let's assume you became a supervillain named Bombshell," she said, "and you tried to rob a bank and got stopped by Spider Man."

"Bombshell?" Monica looked amused.

"Work with me here," Carol laughed. "So, most normal people would do the time and find a regular job. But you want revenge, so you train hard, bust out of prison... and get beat. Again. Which only pisses you off more, and..."

"And the cycle repeats," Monica nodded. "Do any of 'em manage to break the cycle?"

"From what I've read, not many," Carol said with a shrug. She looked up at Monica thoughtfully, "You look pretty perky today. Did the date go well?"

Monica actually blushed, which was pretty damn rare in Carol's experience. "Very well," she admitted, "we're going out again tonight."

"You two serious?" Carol had to ask.

|Not sure yet," Monica admitted, "but DAMN is she good in bed."

That nearly made Carol choke on her coffee. "Too much information, woman," she laughed, shaking her head. "Besides, there is more to relationships than sex," she added seriously.

"But if the sex isn't good what's the point?" Monica teased. She got up as she added thoughtfully, "Thought to be honest... I think I like her. A lot."

Carol watched Monica go, then sat back with a sigh. Back to working through the villain lists looking for a Master Planner. She was tempted to toss the lists over to her contacts at SHIELD, but decided to try to narrow it down a bit. Besides, it might be nice having something impressive to show Maria Hill when they met again...

To be continued...


	27. Chapter 27

Avengers: Wreckage

Note: While it hasn't come up in reviews, I thought I should note that I won't be featuring the Runaways, their villains or the Loners, all of which are LA based. I greatly respect the Runaways series, but I have WAY too many characters on the go as it is.

Chapter Twenty Seven

"All right, what happened?" the Master Planner demanded. The mysterious figure wore a swirling cloak and a hood, the fabric hiding everything but the strangely glowing golden eyes.

"She gave us the slip," Crimson Dynamo admitted reluctantly.

"Turns out her magic works on us," Mauler noted, the woman carrying her uniform helm under her arm, "as long as she's indirect." She calmly spelled out what happened, the former stunt woman meeting her boss' gaze calmly.

The Master Planner sat back, looking annoyed. "You should have stunned her before she escaped," the distorted, genderless voice said irritably.

"We tried," Crimson Dynamo answered defensively, "but she just shrugged off my electrical attacks!"

Master Planner sighed. "Get out of here, both of you," she ordered, adding, "and wash off your suits again. You still smell."

"Maybe we should run them through a car wash?" The Dynamo sighed as they tromped out of the meeting room.

"Might work," Mauler agreed.

After a few moments the Master Planner in the office simply flickered out of existence. In her headquarters across town Carolyn Trainer deactivated the holographic projector, smiling coldly. An improvement on a device she had created back when she fought Spider-Men, it allowed her to project a seemingly solid hologram anywhere she wished in the city.

"You sure it's a good idea to frame Ultron like that?" The Tinkerer asked, the old man looking at her with a scowl. Phineas Mason was in his wheelchair across from her desk, working on a unit for another armored suit.

Carolyn was VERY unsure about bringing him into her 'inner circle' but she needed a technical genius on his level. Worse, she KNEW a simple holographic disguise wouldn't trick him, so... it was either let him know who she was, or kill him. And she needed that brain, damn it.

"All I've done is toss in a few cues that the Master Planner might be Ultron," Carolyn answered mildly. "Besides, I doubt he'd care."

"Really?" Tinkerer asked mildly.

"Now, if I was targeting the Avengers, I might be concerned," Carolyn conceded, "Ultron is fixated on the team. But I doubt he'd care about these b-listers out here."

Tinkerer snorted with amusement. "Those AIM techs get back to you yet on the suit upgrades?" he asked a touch resentfully.

That amused her. Tinkerer DEARLY wanted access to the Stark technology, and part of her bargain with him was that he'd get samples to study. Of course not until he was done with what she needed him to do, of course. She wasn't dumb.

"They're still working on it," Carolyn said casually. She smirked, "And they want them for a attempt at murdering Tony Stark too."

"Won't that interfere with your own plans?" Tinkerer asked shrewdly.

"Not really. I have planned out multiple routes to victory," Carolyn answered calmly. She smiled, "If they succeed in killing Stark, I gain in removing a enemy from the board. If he survives he'll be severely weakened and AIM will be removed. Both outcomes work to my advantage."

Tinkerer nodded slowly, "You're a piece of work."

"Now, I need you working on something," Carolyn addressed him coolly.

"Oh?" Tinkerer looked at her calmly.

"You were able to devise equipment to hurt a invulnerable man, correct?" Carolyn asked.

"Luke Cage, yes," Tinkerer conceded thoughtfully, "but he is not invulnerable, exactly. Just very hard to hurt."

"Well, I need you to turn that expertise on Asgardians," Carolyn said seriously, "I need to have some leverage on Amora, assuming my people ever catch her. Not to mention dealing with that hero Thunderstrike."

Tinkerer nodded, adjusting his wheelchair away from the table. "I'll do what I can," he said as he rolled away. Thoughtfully he murmured to himself, "We might have a few anti-hulk weapons, could try that..."

Carolyn sat back, sighing as she considered what to do next. AIM was nearly ready to launch their attack on Stark, and she had her own plan ready to go, to take advantage of the confusion. Her 'Master Planner' identity had recruited the majority of Amora's people, and she had new recruits arriving soon.

Which left one loose thread: Morgan Stark. She had been useful in getting things organized and had provided invaluable local contacts. But the woman knew too much, now, and was one of the few people who could connect her to all her criminal activities. It was simply too dangerous to let her run free with that information. Thankfully, that was easily fixed.

"Morgan," Carolyn said when her cellphone connected, "thank you for the help with baiting Amora. I'm sorry things didn't play out as planned."

"That scared the hell out of me," Morgan admitted over the phone, sounding a bit stressed.

"I am sorry," Carolyn said. "We agreed on compensation before the operation, but I'm willing to consider a danger bonus. Would you care to come over and discuss it?"

"The usual place?" Morgan asked.

"Meet you there," Carolyn agreed. She put the phone down and sighed at how gullible people could be...

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

Tony Stark hadn't expected to be back in LA so soon. He certainly didn't expect to get summoned back to the city to check in on his cousin, who had apparently become FEMALE.

"Mr Stark, thank you for coming," the doctor nodded, leading Tony down the hall. His white labcoat fluttered over medical scrubs, and he looked visibly tired. "This is quite a fascinating case," he noted mildly.

"How so, Dr, Churchill?" Tony asked. "Did my cousin get surgery, or something?" he asked grimly.

Churchill looked surprised, "No, no. Did you not get my note?"

"I've been busy," Tony answered with a sigh. "What happened to him? Or her. Whichever."

"Her. And it appears to be a complete physical change. Right down to DNA," Churchill said excitedly. "Someone, presumably with advanced technology, rewrote Morgan Stark from the ground up as a WOMAN. Imagine the possibilities."

"Don't get too excited, doc," Tony sighed. He gave the excited medic a look, "I run into crazy stuff like this regularly, and almost always it has no real world applications."

"I suppose so," Churchill admitted, deflating a bit. "She's just ahead..."

"Hey, Tone!" Morgan waved cheerfully, the black haired woman sitting up on her bed.

It was DAMN eerie. She really looked naturally female... in fact she kind of reminded Tony of his mother, oddly. Tony strode into the room, nodding to her as he said politely, "Morgan, that's a new look for you."

Morgan snorted, "You can say that again. Last time I work for Amora the Enchantress..."

"The Enchantress?" Tony blinked. He grabbed a nearby chair and sat down, "How the heck did you get involved with her?"

"Long story..." Morgan sighed and started to explain.

"Damn," Tony said, blinking. "Wait a minute... when did you get changed to a girl?"

"I know," Morgan made a face, "there's... about a month gap in my memories. I kind of freaked out, which is why the cops grabbed me and I ended up here."

"Doc?" Tony looked at him.

"Yes?" Churchill asked.

Tony took a breath then said, "I'd like to bring in a expert or two."

Tony talked Morgan through his recent life several times, and everything was consistant. He had been working for Amora, turned into a woman, recruited former super criminals then... blank. The details matched up to what Tony knew, as well as new reports he had read. So why did Morgan's memories just stop? What did he know?

Reed Richards and Hank Pym turned up within the hour, both rather intrigued by the case. They posed as regular doctors so as to not cause a panic, and each carried seemingly normal medical gear. They were both disguised, advanced gear, but the patients didn't need t know that. They examined Morgan, asked some questions, then left.

"Well?" Tony asked impatiently as they were running through the data.

"No sign of brain damage," Hank said thoughtfully, "or at least no conventional brain damage. Whatever erased her memory didn't hurt her."

"There's some fascinating electrical activity in her brain," Reed noted excitedly, "it's quite unique, actually."

Tony nodded slightly, "You haven't seen it before?"

"It resembles the device that switched our minds with dolls once," Reed mused, remembering one of his teams more unusual adventures.

Hank nodded slightly, "You know, it DOES almost look like someone... just digitized her memories, somehow, downloaded them and edited them."

"So... not magic?" Tony asked patiently.

"PROBABLY not magic," Reed corrected. "We should probably consult Dr Strange too. But just looking at it, I'd say no."

"This gets odder and odder," Hank noted, "he goes to work for a sorceress, gets zapped into a woman, then a mad scientist presumably takes her memories."

"Could be someone working for Amora," Tony pointed out reasonably. "Either way, we need to track her down at least."

To be continued.

Note: In comics canon Carolyn had mind altering technology. More in next chapter.


	28. Chapter 28

Avengers Wreckage

Chapter Twenty Eight

Olivia Stane lay in her bed, the young woman looking physically exhausted. Curled up beside her was the reason she was so wrung out, the gorgeous redhead laying there also nude. It had been a hectic few days with a attack of men in stolen 'Melter' gear and other minor villains, and they were just catching up.

Jennifer Swensen pushed herself up, smiling at her lover. "I should go away more often, if I get treats like that coming back," she noted wryly.

"Don't you dare," Olivia noted with a smile. "You all right? She asked, "I know the medical staff checked you over when the suit was damaged, but..."

"I'm fine," Jennifer reassured her, "the Melter beams only dissolve metal. They don't effect flesh and blood."

"Any guesses on suit repair time?" Olivia wondered, her mind drifting towards business mode.

"A few days, since the main skeleton of the suit is still intact," Jennifer smiled wryly, "I built the suit modular, so it' mostly just swapping out components."

"Good. I'd hate for you to have to go out in your old Spitfire suit," Olivia teased.

"It's not THAT bad," Jennifer pouted.

"It had a plexiglass view port, was mostly red plastic and looked like a cheap Iron Man cosplay," Olivia continued.

"Meanie," Jennifer sighed.

Olivia ticked her, making Jennifer gasp then laugh. "You know I love you, even if you can't design attractive things," Olivia noted, then kissed her again.

"Hmm," Jennifer kissed her back. "Rested up enough yet?" she asked, gently running a hand down her bare side.

"You are insatiable," Olivia purred happily.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

Clytemnestra blinked in astonishment as she circled the Firepower armor. The heavy suit had been designed to fight Iron Man when he had gone renegade, and had compensated for the gap in technology by using raw power. They had acquired the suit after the government had planned to scrap it, and her team had rebuilt it. It still looked boxy and bulky, nearly one and a half times taller than Iron Man, humanoid but with a dome helm and a massive backpack containing various arms.

"Ma'am," the one scientist, Jacobs, stood at attention, then the others followed, a few still nervous from hearing about her shooting a scientist who had defied her.

"We've got the basic upgrades done," the other man, Alex, said proudly, "and we're incorporating elements from the new Capekiller technology."

"Walk me through it," Clytemnestra ordered.

"After some debate we kept the original look for the armor," Jacobs said briskly, "hopefully Stark will think it's the original suit, unmodified."

There was a sense of annoyance among the scientists at the knowledge that Tony Stark was Iron Man. They had spent years fighting the armored Avenger and Tony Stark, and it was deeply galling to learn they were the same man. Why hadn't they figured it out? They were GENIUSES!

"We've also set up the electronics to spoof Iron Man's sensors somewhat," Alex jumped in, "he'll think the suit is the original, until you power up the systems to full."

"Very nice," Clytemnestra nodded. Smiling. The boys and girls on the tech team then ran through the weapons and other upgrades, which were honestly quite mind blowing. When she faced Stark in this suit, he was going to be very surprised.

"The final addition was requested by the Scientist Supreme," Heather noted, the redhead pointing out a unit inside the main armor lining, "a personal teleporter."

"Teleporter?" Clytemnestra blinked.

"If critical damage happens to the armor or you suffer a life threatening injury, the device is set to teleport you out." Alex nodded seriously.

"But..." Clytemnestra started.

"Sorry, ma'am, but the Scientist Supreme was firm," Heather met her eyes coolly.

Clytemnestra wanted to argue, but realized there was no point. Monica Rappaccini clearly was determined to make sure she came back alive from her planned attack on Stark. She was touched, even though she was certain the other woman was just protecting her investment in her. It was especially touching considering the efforts Monica was putting into finding her daughter too...

"Thank you," Clytemnestra accepted it as gracefully as she could. "How soon will the cape killer additions be finished?" she asked.

"A few days, I think," Alex offered, "we're still going over the technology for possible improvements to the suit. Primarily I think it will be ammunition improvements, along with some improved shielding."

"Contact me when it's ready," Clytemnestra nodded. She left the lab, even as she considered calling up Monica... just to talk.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

Warbird smashed through the first robot, her blond hair streaming behind her as the black and gold clad woman struck another, staggering it. Thunderstrike followed through, smashing another robot even as they tried to get a sense of how much trouble they were in.

"What are these things?" Thunderstrike demanded, her black hair tied back in a ponytail. She hefted her mace confidently, even as the chunky robots prepared to advance on them again.

"They look like Box robots," Warbird noted as the remaining ten lumbered towards them.

"Box?" Thunderstrike asked as she punched a squat robot backward. It was oddly shaped, with gigantic arms and a thick torso, along with stubby legs and a small head.

"Canadian superhero," Warbird explained, "he built a series of remote controlled robots he used to fight crime and help Alpha Flight. The robots were taken over by the government, last I'd heard."

"Obviously, someone else got them," Thunderstrike noted as the group broke into a lumbering run towards them.

The Box-robots weren't that agile or fast, but they made up for it with raw physical power. All of them appeared to be class 50 strength at least, and were reasonably tough and physically durable. It took all their efforts to keep Thunderstrike and Warbird from being overwhelmed as they smashed and broke robots.

"Wish War Machine was here," Warbird muttered as she ripped the head right off one of the robots, then tossed it at the others.

"Neither she or Olivia were answering their phones," Thunderstrike said wryly, "And we know what THAT means."

"You have a dirty mind," Warbird snickered as she kicked a hole right through a Box. Annoyingly it barely slowed it down.

"And proud of it," Thunderstrike smirked, smashing a Box down with her hammer.

"Heads up!" a voice called as a strawberry blond crashed into the attacking robots, flying down into their midst.

"Who the...?" Warbird blinked.

"Ultra Girl!" the younger woman beamed, the orange bodysuit clinging to her like a second skin, a green belt carrying a stylized 'u' buckle. "My agent said that Stane was looking to recruit me, so I thought I'd try you out."

"Agent?" Thunderstrike echoed.

Thankfully the girl was more capable than she seemed. Much like Warbird she tore into the enemy, and she seemed to at least match the attacking robots strength. Unlike the two of them she seemed almost gleeful as she fought, really enjoying the destruction.

Thunderstrike assessed the mass of attacking robots. Some of them were self repairing, and there seemed to be a reserve that moved up to replace fallen machines. Steps needed to be taken before they were overwhelmed.

"Can you keep them off my back a few moments?" Thunderstrike asked.

"Will do!" Ultra Girl said perkily.

Warbird rolled her eyes a bit, "We'll try."

Thunderstrike braced herself, then began to spin her war mace, the battered iron sparking and glowing even as the breeze roared around her. She grit her teeth as the pull on the chain attached to the handle hurt, but spun on as power built.

"Ugh!" Warbird grunted as she used her power bolts and fists to drive the advancing robots back.

Ultra Girl did her best to keep up, mildly in awe over how the older woman was pumping out power bolts. She was going to exhaust herself, but kept going anyway. "You trust your friend that much?" she asked as she slammed two robots into each other.

"She's earned it," Warbird panted tiredly as she blasted another.

There was a massive roar behind them then Thunderstrike called, "Get clear! Now!"

Both Warbird and Ultra Girl took to the air, then turned to see what was happening. "Holy shit," Ultra Girl breathed out.

Thunderstrike had generated a kind of cyclone, but with immense winds. The robots were being yanked in and torn apart, while bursts of lightning danced through the storm to zap anything left intact. Within moments the battle was done, the storm dispersing even as Thunderstrike collapsed tiredly.

"Why didn't you break that out earlier?" Ultra Girl demanded as she and Warbird flew down to her side.

Warbird tossed the girl a glare as she helped the visibly shaky Thunderstrike up. "Because it takes time to do it." Thunderstrike answered, "and my fine control sucks. I wanted to make sure no innocents were nearby too."

"Well, you handled it nicely," Warbird congratulated her.

"They seem to be upping the stakes, assuming these were sent by whomever is running the criminals in town," Thunderstrike noted tiredly.

"So you're fighting the Master Planner?" Ultra Girl asked.

Both women looked at her. "How do you know that name?" Warbird had to ask.

"My criminal contacts?" Ultra Girl shrugged. As both glared at the teen she sighed, "This guy wanted to sleep with me, he told me that to impress me."

To be continued...

Notes: the Melter is a B-list villain of Iron Man. His sole weapon was a beam to melt metal. Not showing the fight because it's be a waste of space.


End file.
